


A Tortured Body, A Tortured Soul

by audhds



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, But he doesn't mean to be, Crying, Exhaustion, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Sex is a great diversionary tactic, Shower Sex, Sick Tony, Sick Tony Stark, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve is an Asshole, Tony Feels, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony and Steve get their act together and have sex - finally - author approves, Tony-centric, Torture, Touch-Starved, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9531503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audhds/pseuds/audhds
Summary: Tony was coping fine.Well, fine apart from the fact that he had well and truly pushed himself to breaking point, both mentally and physically. But it was ok, Stark men are made of iron and he didn't have time to fall apart. His team needs him. And he can't let them down again. He has to stop being a failure. If he just worked a bit harder, things would all be ok. Right?!...Or the one where Tony Stark is being his usual self-destructive self, and it takes Steve causing him to have a panic attack in the middle of a debriefing for the team to realise that perhaps, Ironman isn't quite as indestructible as he would have people believe.





	1. Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So it's been a while since I have written anything, and after having a Marvel Marathon, I was bitten by the writing bug again. I hope that you all enjoy the results. This is my first Marvel fic, so please be gentle. Your feedback means the world to me, so please let me know what you think.
> 
> Warnings for the fact that this may be a little out of character (I have a weakness for hurt Tony which cannot be sated). Also if panic attacks/flashbacks/references to past torture and so on are triggering to you, please don't read this xxx 
> 
> The panic attack scenes are based on my own experiences of having them, so may be subjective. All mistakes are my own!

Tony was exhausted.

Not just three days without sleeping exhausted (ok, maybe that’s a problem for normal people, but not Tony Stark – c’mon), but full on, bone deep tired. The kind that made keeping your eyes open almost impossible. He had already passed the point of being so tired that he half woke up again, and was now back to the brink of passing out. His brain felt like it was running at 0.1 miles an hour and it seemed to be taking four times as long as usual to process things. Not to mention the fact that there were black spots floating around his vision – to be perfectly honest they were beginning to piss him off. I mean come on, give a guy a break!

But now wasn’t the time to lose focus, and Tony didn’t have time for a break. There was far too much to do. Although the temptation to sit down long enough to down a mug of coffee was almost overwhelming.

Then again, almost anything sounded more appealing to Tony right now than a debriefing meeting. Which, sadly, is exactly what he was being subjected to.

Tony mentally shook himself and blinked heavily, successfully managing to clear his head a little. Just enough to hear Captain Self Righteous wittering on about tactical advances and…well, who knows. Tony certainly didn’t, because he had zoned out again without realising.

His mind wandered to the new arrowheads that he had been in the middle of designing before the latest Doombot attack, which is what had landed him in this stupid debriefing to begin with. They needed a few more final tweaks to ensure that they were as aerodynamic as possible. When you are an Avenger every second counts – Tony didn’t want to be responsible for someone being hurt because Clint’s arrows weren’t fast enough.

And then there was the issue of the Hulk-proof shorts, which, as it transpired, were not Hulk proof. Banner’s modesty admittedly isn’t a life or death issue, but nobody wants to be faced with over a foot of swinging hulk cock mid-battle, if the situation can be avoided.

Not to mention the blueprints that Coulson was nagging him for, the new weapons he was developing for Natasha, the Iron Man suit repairs that were well overdue and the new product range for Stark Industries. Then there was the constant stream of galas and charity events that Pepper signed him up for. Oh, and who could forget being an actual Avenger, keeping on top of  general maintenance work on JARVIS and upgrading the tower’s various facilities. And all of these responsibilities were piled on top of his usual day-to-day work.

Tony tried to remember the last time he wasn’t working on over thirty things at once, or to recall the last time that he didn’t feel completely shattered, but he drew a blank.

Speaking of blank, Tony’s vacant gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed amongst his team, and Captain Controlling was getting pissed. Which never ended well for anyone, especially not Tony.

“Stark, I’m sorry if this meeting is an inconvenience to you, and if I am taking up too much of your precious time, but I’d appreciate it if you bothered to at least try and look like you are paying attention. This does concern you after all.” Tony shrank back a little, leaning further back into his chair and hunching his shoulders as if he could shield himself from the onslaught of Steve’s anger. The super soldier’s angry tone was doing nothing to help the headache brewing in Tony’s skull and he could already feel his skin going clammy with anxiety.

“If you had bothered fixing Clint’s bow properly yesterday then some of his shots wouldn’t have missed. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t respond to Natasha’s call for help immediately! You’ve got to be more of a team player Tony, Natasha wouldn’t have sprained her ankle if you’d have given her aerial support in time!” Steve’s voice was rising further with each accusation and Tony could feel his ears burning with ever-intensifying shame as the tirade went on and on.

Steve was right, he had let everyone down again. As usual. He should have worked harder. He knew that he was putting his team at risk by not fixing all of the battle equipment immediately. But there were so many things to do that it was almost impossible to prioritise.

He wanted to defend himself. But there really wasn’t anything to say. Admittedly he could have mentioned that he didn’t reach Natasha on time because he was fighting off five Doombots at once with a broken repulsor in one hand of the suit, and a damaged thruster in his left foot, but what was the point?

All of this could have been avoided if he had just worked harder.

“Stark, don’t you even have anything to say for yourself? At the very least, you owe Natasha an apology.”

“Tash – I’m sorry, I should have helped you sooner. I’ll do better next time.” Tony stared down at his knees through the glass table, not having it in himself to look Natasha in the eye. He hated the idea of hurting her, and to be honest, he was terrified of meeting her angry gaze. However, this meant that he missed the concerned flicker of emotion that crossed her face. It was so brief that chances are, he would have missed it even if he was looking at her. But still. It didn’t matter whether she was mad at him or not. Stark had enough self-loathing to cover the both of them.

Steve seemed satisfied with Stark’s apology, and began to carry on with his debriefing, although Tony’s mind was still reeling with what if’s and questions about what he could be improving. And to make matters worse, the black dots in his vision were back with a vengeance and he felt woozy.

He was about to say something along the lines of “sorry guys, gotta take a leak,” or “if I have to spend one more minute in this room I might be the one hulking out,” when he tuned back into what was being said.

“…7 casualties. I know that _everyone_ did their best, but this isn’t acceptable and we all need to try harder next time. No more innocent lives can be lost because of our shortcomings.”

Tony felt the world constricting around him.

It was his fault.

Not only had he failed his team, he had also contributed to the fact that 7 civilians had been hurt. And let’s be honest, even if one of the other avengers was to blame, it was probably because their equipment or weapons had failed.

It all boiled down to Tony.

Tony struggled to draw breath, his vision blurring and the room tilting as nausea and vertigo crashed over him in waves. He really should drink something – just a glass of water and a coffee, perhaps an energy bar…

“Ironman, are you listening to a word I am saying? Snap out of it, how can we hope to save people’s lives if we can’t even focus in a meeting?…STARK, FOR GOD SAKE STARK! ”

Stark.

Howard Stark – beating…hitting…pain…crying in the corner, curled up in a ball…trying to make himself small…

Tony Stark – genius…billionaire…playboy…philanthropist…failure…killer…mass murderer…merchant of death…

Stark terror - darkness. So much darkness…guns…bangs…explosions…oh god the pain in his chest was so bad…

Stark naked - in the dark and freezing cold…there were hands all over him, touching him, forcing him, invading every inch of his personal space and more. They wouldn’t let go, bustling against him, pushing him into the icy water…

Tony tried to draw breath but his lungs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. His ears were ringing with angry shouts from his past and it took all of Tony’s strength not to break down right there and then. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg Steve to be quiet. But he couldn’t do anything, because Steve’s shouting was dragging Tony right back to Afghanistan…

And he couldn’t make a sound.

All Tony could do was open his mouth in a silent plea for help, struggling to breathe through the rising panic.

And with impeccable timing as ever, Captain Rogers stepped in and made things one hundred times worse. He was too busy venting on Tony to even realise how pale and panic-stricken the smaller man looked.

Because although Steve was a super soldier, he was far from perfect.

* * *

Just when Tony thought that things couldn’t get any worse, as he raised his head to look beseechingly at Steve, he was met with a glass of ice cold water being thrown in his face.

Tony sputtered, completely losing it when the water invaded his eyes, nose and mouth. Tony cowered, his entire body shaking as he felt the burn of water being inhaled into his nose. Everything seemed to happen so quickly, yet in slow motion at the same time.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tony had scrambled back off of his chair and had fallen to the floor, curling up in a ball and hyperventilating.  No matter how much he tried to breathe, no air seemed to be reaching his lungs. This was it. He was dying. Tony was sure about it. Because surely the pain in his head could only mean one thing.

The headache that had been building all day erupted into something so much more and before Tony could so much as move into a better position, he was vomiting all down himself and all over the floor.

Tony hadn’t eaten in days, so his vomit was purely liquid, but this didn’t stop the stomach acid from burning his throat, and didn’t negate the fact that his lungs, already incapacitated by the arc reactor, had been struggling enough as it was.

This was it.

He was choking. There wasn’t enough air. Tony couldn't breathe, he was certain that the walls of the cave were closing in on him...so much darkness. It was always dark, the pitch blackness eating him up and confining him…Tony couldn't move. He was suffocating.

The hands he thought he had escaped were clutching at him, grabbing his hair and gripping the back of his head, forcing him under the water and he couldn’t breathe.

He just wanted the pain to stop…

* * *

 

Steve watched in horror when he saw Stark’s reaction to having the cup of water thrown in his face. It was meant to have been a joke – or at least a mildly amusing way of making the genius pay attention.

But now nothing about the transpiring situation seemed the slightest bit amusing.

Stark had pitched off his chair and was hyperventilating, curled up and sobbing in terror. His entire body was shaking and Steve could see cold droplets of sweat beading on the older man’s brow and soaking through his t-shirt.

All of a sudden the superhero looked so small, and Steve immediacy knew that he had messed up.

How could he have been so stupid? He knew that Stark had issues with water, but hadn’t bothered to take the time to think about his teammate’s feelings and wellbeing.

Steve had never taken the liberty of reading Stark’s medical file, but it was clear that the man was experiencing some sort of PTSD related flashback. He had seen many soldiers with similar symptoms and had bared witness to far bigger and stronger men than Stark being reduced to tears over memories and figments of their imagination.

He knelt down next to the quaking man, shooting the others a concerned look as he did so. Natasha had rested an arm on Clint’s shoulder to pull him back, Thor was staring bemusedly at his teammate and Bruce was making his way over to Tony with a concerned, pinched expression crossing his face.

“Tony, Tony? I need you to try and breathe for me, Tony. Can you hear me? Tony it is really important that you try your best to breathe for me…remember those breathing exercises I taught you?” Bruce had adopted his most professional tone of voice, calm and collected, although Steve could see the dangerous green tint to his eyes.

Tony didn’t respond.

If anything, he seemed to curl up into a smaller ball, sobbing brokenly and letting out a few pitiful, almost inhuman moans of fright. His throat was raw from being sick and he had his eyes screwed shut in pain.

Steve gingerly reached out, resting a hand lightly on Tony’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He didn’t really like the guy, to be honest Steve thought he was a self-righteous jerk, but on the other hand he had never meant to reduce such a proud man to tears. Hell, he wouldn’t have even thought that Stark crying was a possibility before. Steve had been convinced that the man had no emotions, or conscience!

Clearly he was wrong.

* * *

 

It took a while for Tony to register the other man’s touch, but as soon as he did, things took another turn for the worse.

He let out a strangled scream of fear, pulling back and thwacking his head against the glass table, hard enough to make his head bleed. But he didn’t seem to notice. Tony was too busy begging and bargaining with an imaginary foe. Or at least a long dead one.

“Please don’t, please…d-don’t want. Can’t – won’t b-build, no. Won’t do it. J-just kill me. Please. I-I’m beggin’ you. Please. I won’t help you. Won’t. Not going to. Just stop, p-please. It hurts. Hurts so bad! Please. Just stop. S-stop, pleaseeee. Y-you can’t m-make me…” Tony had gone completely rigid, no longer trying to move away from Steve or Bruce, but seemingly accepting his fate.

Steve withdrew his hand, shooting Bruce another guilty, panicked look. The scientist sighed, looking defeated as he withdrew a syringe from his medical bag. Then, he very cautiously took Tony’s unresisting arm, pushed the needle into his vein and supported his teammate as he lost his battle against consciousness.

Bless Bruce for always being organised and dependable. I mean, who else casually carries round sedatives?!

“Well…that was fun.” Clint said in a tone that suggested otherwise. “So Cap, what do we do now?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, wow! Thank you all for such lovely feedback! I love you all and will get round to replying to everyone soon! They really mean the world! Warning for sick Tony and his potty mouth!
> 
> I apologise for the formatting, had a mare uploading this!
> 
> Enjoy!

When Tony came round he was baffled to find himself surrounded by warmth and soft sheets. His head was resting on a pillow and the weight of the duvet on top of him was comforting, in a strange way. The circumstances would have been blissful if Tony’s head didn’t feel like it was going to explode.

A small pain-filled whimper escaped Tony’s mouth before he could stop it, and someone next to him immediately moved, the noise from them pushing their chair back grating against Tony and slicing into his skull. Another small whine escaped his mouth and he tried to smush himself back into the pillows, away from the noise, but it didn’t work.

Cool hands began probing at his skull and for a moment Tony wanted to scream out and pull away - he just wanted to be left alone, was that too much to ask? But then clever fingers found pressure points that Tony didn’t even know existed, and when they began to massage his head, Tony found himself melting into the comfort. The relief was marginal, but it was nice having someone willingly touching him for once. And oh god, was he really that starved of affection now that Pepper had left him?!

He let out a small moan and snuggled into the comforting touch, finally placing the scent of Bruce’s cologne and realising that it was his fellow science bro helping him out.

  
Of course it was.

It wasn’t as if any of the others would care. And Bruce probably only tolerated him because Tony allowed him to play around with all his toys (aka pretty much gifted him a multimillion dollar research lab).

Tony shoved the dark thoughts aside for a while.

Just for a moment he would allow himself to be comforted…not for long, just until his head stopped feeling like it was imploding.

* * *

The second time Tony stirred wasn’t quite so peaceful.

His head, although it hurt less, felt spacy and Tony spent a panic-stricken moment wondering what drugs SHIELD had injected into his system. The idea of losing control over his body frightened Tony and the familiar feelings of nausea and wooziness reminded him of how he felt in the cave, suffering from blood loss, starvation, exhaustion and not to mention so much damn pain from his heart.

Deciding that he had had enough of feeling quite so pathetic, thank you very much, Tony sat up a little, propping himself up on one arm and realising too-late that he had made a big mistake. Before he could do anything about it, Tony was vomiting all over himself and the bed, pathetically dribbling and coughing. He didn’t even have the energy to hang his head over the edge of the bed and aim for the floor.

“Tony?” Tony vaguely registered a soft, feminine voice coming from his left hand side, but he didn’t have the energy to respond in any way. Instead he coughed pathetically, bringing up a bit more stomach acid and blushing, shamefacedly when he realised that a few tears were leaking down his face.

Tender arms wrapped around his shoulder to support him, one hand raising up to support his forehead and brush his hair from his face, the other gently rubbing soothing circles into his chest, just above his arc reactor.

He wanted to pull away, but that would have taken far too much effort, and to be honest, faceplanting into his own vomit and asphyxiating in it didn’t exactly sound like fun.  
“Oh Tony, how on earth did you let yourself get into such a state.” Natasha’s usually cool voice seemed to be full of emotion, pity?! And Tony would have sworn that he heard her voice crack a little.

He really must be losing it.

“You need to get some rest Stark, and when you are well enough, we’re going to talk about things, ok? We need you alive and well.”

Yep, Tony was losing it. Hell, he was probably hallucinating this whole thing. In reality he was probably still sprawled across the floor in the debriefing room. Yeah. That sounds about right. The team had probably just left him there after he made such a fool of himself. Realised what a useless, worthless, pathetic excuse for a human he was.  
With a weary sigh Tony allowed darkness to swallow him again, failing to notice how Natasha called for Clint and Bruce to help her, and not stirring when the other Avengers scooped him up, cleaned him with a cool cloth and transferred him to a clean bed. If Clint was soft enough to gently brush Tony’s hair out of his eyes and to tuck him in – well, nobody ever mentioned it again.

* * *

The third time Tony stirred he felt slightly more human. Or at least as though he wasn’t on death’s door. He sat up, squeezing his eyes tight shut against the pain in his head, before opening them again and taking a quick look around.

Bruce was slumped in a chair next to his bed, his chest rising and falling steadily and a small trickle of drool dribbling down his chin. Tony didn’t want to wake him, knowing that as soon as he did, he would probably get a lecture about taking better care of himself.

Tony knew that although he was expendable as an avenger, recommended or not, he was needed by the team financially. Being an international hero, surprisingly, doesn’t pay very well and it was his fortune that kept everybody living in the lap of luxury, and equipped with the latest tech. They couldn’t afford to lose his money – their performance would suffer and people would die. It’s as simple as that. Plain, cold facts.

Speaking of tech, Tony needed to get back to work.

His brain began rattling off his mental to-do list and Tony felt his shoulders slump without his permission. There was so much to do.

With all the strength he had in him, Tony swung his legs out of bed and turned his attention to the monitors and IV’s that were keeping him hostage. One by one he pulled the needles out of his skin, flinching slightly when the monitors beeped in warning. He quickly switched them off before Bruce even stirred – pros of designing all the tech in this place, he could use it to get out of awkward situations.

Finally free, he slipped out of bed, his feet dragging against the freezing cold floor as he took a few tentative steps towards the door. He needed to set a reminder to install heated floors into this place, its cavernous size seemed to drain away all heat, no matter what temperature the thermostat was set at.

It took an embarrassingly long time, but eventually Tony managed to make it down to his workroom, only stumbling a few times and pausing to rest in the elevator for slightly longer than was strictly necessary.

Sighing with relief at being back in his safe space, Tony called out to JARVIS.

“Hey JARVIS, put the lab on lockdown until I say otherwise. No-override codes allowed, especially not Steve’s. Also, can you put all messages and alerts on silence? Unless there is another attack and Ironman is needed.”

“Sir, I do not believe that is a good idea. You seem to be agitated, you are showing all your usual signs of an impending panic attack.” And ouch, the truth sure does hurt sometimes. Tony glared down at his hands, which were betraying him by shaking violently. It’s always great when your own body doesn’t even respects your needs, wants and wishes.

With a tone far darker than he intended, Tony snapped at his AI. “You don’t believe anything JARVIS. You are a damn piece of computer software, so stop acting like you care. You don’t have feelings. Just leave me alone and do what I say, just like I programmed you to do.”

Tony regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. JARVIS was far more than a piece of tech to him, but he was too angry to take them back.  
Instead he just listened sadly as JARVIS replied “as you wish, Sir,” in a decidedly brusque and pointed fashion.

Tony couldn’t even maintain a relationship with a machine that he had created solely to be his companion when no one else was. And damn, how lonely do you have to be to spend countless hours developing a computer to be your friend.

To Tony’s dismay he felt his breath hitch in his throat and he had to clear his throat to stop the tears that were forming.

He’d just have to make it up to his AI later.

* * *

Time seemed to have no meaning in his workshop, and already Tony had spent even hours working tirelessly. He had finished off the arrowheads for Clint that he had been working on, created a new fabric prototype for Hulk’s shorts material and had done some detailed sketches of Natasha’s new weapons.

He was beginning to feel more in control.

There was still plenty to do, but it was manageable. If he just worked for a few more hours he’d be able to get his Ironman suit sorted out and perhaps tackle a few other things as well. With a small smile he stretched his back a little, allowing himself a moment’s pleasure as he felt his spine shift back into place. His persistent headache was still there, but as long as he was able to work and focus, he could will the pain away.

JARVIS had only piped up once the whole time, informing Tony that Steve and Bruce were insisting on coming in, but Tony quickly silenced the AI, reminding JARVIS that he had asked not to be disturbed. But this time his tone was far kinder, he felt far better about things now that his work was beginning to get under control.

Although to be truthful, he was incredibly grateful for the pot of coffee that Bruce had left outside his room, having given up on actually speaking to Tony face to face. There was a post-it stuck to the lid with a small written message “If you are insistent on working yourself into the ground, you might as well be fully caffeinated doing so - look after yourself brother, your health is more important than your projects.”

Tony had let out a small snort at the last line, because hello, ridiculous, but he had drank down the hot coffee gratefully, making sure to drain every last bit as if the rich brown liquid was a lifeline.

He made a note to buy Bruce some new test-tubes or some other sciency shit to say thank you. If there is one thing that Tony Stark is good at, it is buying friendship, or at least loyalty. He was incredibly grateful to have Bruce in his life. It was nice that the guy pretended to care. Tony appreciated it more than he should.

But as soon as the coffee pot was empty, he felt the illusion of friendship crumble away and he was left completely alone again, with only his thoughts for company.

* * *

"STARK…TONY WILL YOU OPEN THIS DOOR, PLEASE?!” Steve was standing outside Tony’s lab yet again, red in the face from yelling override codes at JARVIS. The AI kept apologetically telling Captain America that Tony was fully denying all access, codes or not. But it turns out that Steve is just as much of a stubborn jerk as Tony is.

With a resigned sigh Tony switched off his monitors and asked JARVIS to turn down the rock music that he’d been blasting out to keep awake. He trudged over to the door and opened it, smirking when Steve practically spluttered in indignant rage/relief. Tony wasn’t sure which emotion was more dominant.

“About time, Tony you can’t just pull stunts like this! You’re going to end up back in medical at this rate, have you looked in a mirror recently? Tony, you look half dead.”

Well that’s nice, compliments already. Tony hadn’t even had to take him to dinner first…

“Gee, thanks Cap, that’s practically nicest thing anyone has said to me all week.” And god, if only that wasn’t the truth.

“Tony, I’m being serious. You are injured, and you look exhausted. Please. I just want to apologise. The way I acted the other day was totally unacceptable and I didn’t mean to upset you. I should have taken responsibility for my actions and it was unfair of me to have put so much pressure on you. It was unwarranted and I take back what I said about things being your fault.” Steve extended a hand out to Tony, his eyes wide and pleading, his lips slightly parted.

And Tony just wanted to punch his pretty face in.

How dare Steve just swan into his private haven and spew such bullshit at him? The man who had pretty much single-handedly broken Tony and pushed him over the edge. And now he wanted to be forgiven? To have his conscience cleared?!

“Please tell me you are joking, Captain Condescending. You walk all over me, treat me like crap and expect me to bow down to your wishes when you pull out the puppy-dog eyes?! Well newsflash, that won’t work on me. For god sake, you…” Tony’s breath caught in his throat and to his dismay he felt tears prickling at his eyes…again.

He blinked furiously before continuing.

“I may not be a valuable member of this team, and I know I am so far away from perfect that I’m pretty much the opposite of the rest of you, but I try my best. I’ve been working hours on end, hours…and for what? I try so damn hard and you throw WATER in my face!” Tony’s voice hitched and he balled his hands into fists, furiously chewing on his lip as he waited for his brain to catch up with his mouth.

He should probably shut up now.

“Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise…I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t.” Tony couldn’t work as much venom into his tone as he wanted to, he felt woozy, his head was pounding and he simply wanted to go to bed.

“Tony, I really am sorry. It’s my job to look out for my team, and I failed. I failed the team, and most of all I failed you. I know that you don’t like water. I’ve never been granted access to your medical file, but I have heard things and I should have put two and two together. But I really didn’t mean to make you have a panic attack. I have seen many men suffering from PTSD and trust me, it kills me knowing that I caused you to have a flashback.”

Tony looked down at his feet. Screw Captain America and his ability to make Tony feel two inches tall. He wanted nothing more than to hate the super soldier, but he couldn’t. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. There was no way Tony was going to cry and look weak again. He was strong, and he was going to prove it.

“Yeah, well next time you want to get someone’s attention, make sure they haven’t been waterboarded before you throw a cup of water over him. And I call bullshit on the ‘I wasn’t thinking excuse.’ You know damn well how much I hate water. You’ve lived with me for years now, don’t tell me that you’ve never realised how I refuse to go out in the rain, how I avoid the swimming pool at all costs – how I wear gloves when I do the washing up so that I don’t have to get water on me. Don’t tell me you didn’t intentionally go out of your way to hurt me. Because I don’t buy it.”

“Tony, please. You aren’t well, I really am sorry, and I accept that this is my fault, but it wasn’t intentional. I’m begging you, please just come out of here for a while and let Bruce take a look at your head, it looks like your bandages need changing. It’s not healthy to keep yourself locked up in here, you’re working yourself too hard…” Before Steve could carry on, Tony barged past him, storming out of his lab and grabbing his coat on his way out.

“Tony? Where are you going?!”

“Out. That’s what you wanted isn’t it. To get rid of me. So well done, I’m leaving. Please don’t be outside my door when I get back.”

* * *

Steve followed the stumbling man in front of him down the street, making sure to stay a good thirty paces away from him.

Stark had been in four bars so far, and had been kicked out of three of them. He was about 7 shots down and Steve had lost count of how many double whiskeys the smaller man had drunk. It was a wonder that Tony was walking at all.

Steve knew that it would be stupid to try and stop Tony, but he could at least tail him and make sure that the other man was ok, and that he got home safe. When Tony stumbled and nearly fell to the ground it took all of Steve’s willpower not to go over to him and catch him, but eventually he was forced to act. Tony had swerved into a side alley and had begun to be sick violently, his legs buckling as he sagged against the alley wall.

Steve jogged over to him, hauling the smaller man into his arms and supporting him as he was sick. Steve grimaced at the acrid smell, but what bothered him most was the fact that once again, Tony was only throwing up liquid. He still hadn’t eaten.

When Tony opened his eyes blearily and looked at Steve, his eyes narrowed a little and he pulled away from the super soldiers grip. His body was too weak to hold itself up and to be honest he felt like his brain was imploding, but he’d never swallow his pride and allow Steve to help him. Instead he sank down onto the ground, cradling his head in one hand and trying to hold back the nausea.

“Tony, you need to come home, now! You’re in no fit state to stay here. Seriously, you’re a state.”

Tony curled in on himself and grimaced.

As soon as he regained control of his breathing he looked up, and was about to tell Steve where he could stick it, but before he could do anything his eyes widened in terror.  
That was the only warning that Steve had before he was tackled to the ground from behind, a rag being pressed over his nose and mouth. The last thing the super soldier saw before his world faded to black, was another man hauling Tony up by the hair and knocking him unconscious with a single blow to the head.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry to leave you of a cliffie! Or am I?
> 
> Please let me know what you think, your feedback means everything to me :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, I hope that you enjoy it! Thanks again for all of your lovely comments, they mean the world <3 Warnings for some physical violence - no more than cannon though :)

Tony woke with a groan, his head pounding and the stench of damp immediately making his eyes water. He had no idea where he was, but from what he could gather, things were not good. He was in a freezing cold room with whitewashed plaster walls and a grey stone floor. There was a cast iron door separating Tony from the outside world, with no way to open it from the inside. The only source of light was a tiny 2 by 2 foot window high above him. Judging by the light filtering through the room it was about mid-day, maybe a little earlier.

Well. This certainly wasn’t good. Had he pissed someone off last night – probably, but enough to get himself kidnapped – who knows.

The Avenger began compiling a list of what he did know in his head, determined to think things through so that he didn’t lose it. Currently, it would be all too easy to lose his shit and panic, and that really wouldn’t be a good plan of action. So, what could he determine from his situation -

1\. It was sodding cold.

2\. Everything hurt – no change there.

3\. He should probably stop drinking.

4\. He had been kidnapped.

5\. Again. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last – and there’s a depressing thought.

6\. He was unrestrained. Which is actually kind of offensive – didn’t his kidnappers think it was worth even typing up? He was a genius, he could get himself out of anything!

7\. Well…

8\. There was no obvious way out.

9\. Shit. He was in trouble.

10\. And to make matters worse, it appeared that he was confined in a room with the one person in the world that he really, really didn’t want to see.

Steve was lying in the room too, slumped against the corner of two walls with his head on his chest. He had some horrific black bruising covering his neck and Tony was thankful that the serum would ensure that he healed quickly. The last thing he needed was a wounded super soldier to look after and get through this. Not when he was this close to falling apart himself.

“Rogers? Captain, wake up man.” Tony hauled himself up, moaning when his head span. He wearily raised a hand to his own head and hissed when he felt the dried and congealed blood covering well over half of his head and face. After a little more probing he discovered a deep laceration across his forehead – it must have been a good centimetre deep, if not more. Yep, thank goodness for shock, because that was seriously going to hurt when Tony came down off of his adrenaline-high.

Ignoring the way his hands and legs were trembling, Tony made his way over to the other man, crouching next to him and checking his vitals. It looked like Steve was ok – probably drugged or something. He’d come round on his own.

Left with nothing to do except for sitting there in silence, Tony continued to scan the room, occasionally checking on Steve and trying to work out what had happened the night before. He remembered going to a pub – or a few pubs. And he remembered being sick and Steve finding him puking his guts out (yet another great reason for Steve to have a go at him later, and another moment of humiliation that he will have to live down. Great). But apart from that everything was a blur. Fantastic.

* * *

 

It took a good half an hour, but eventually Steve stirred, groaning and immediately raising a hand to his bruised neck. He looked around in confusion, and when he saw Tony his face fell. The man looked dreadful, he was covered in blood and God, when did he get so thin? The other man looked like he was on death’s door. When was the last time that Tony had eaten a proper meal – Steve was couldn’t remember the last time he had joined the Avengers at a communal meal…

Now that Steve actually took the time to look closely, he could see Tony’s collar and shoulder bones protruding from underneath his t-shirt. And the bags under his eyes looked dark enough to be that eye shadow that Pepper wears occasionally, or something.

“Yeah, I wasn’t very pleased to see you either.” Tony’s voice was clipped and curt, but he didn’t manage to put as much venom behind his words as he wanted to. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was beginning to panic at the situation and he was actually relieved that the other man was awake.

“What happened Stark? Who are these people?”

“No idea Capsicle, I don’t remember a thing. I don’t think anyone has come in since we’ve been here, but it looks like we were both passed out all night and this morning.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully, standing up and beginning to pace. He was clearly putting his military mind-set to use, calculating options and escape routes. It only took him ten minutes to come to the same conclusion as Tony – they were well and truly trapped.

“Well, it shouldn’t take the others too long to find us, so I guess until then we are stuck here together.” Steve sighed and sat back down, leaning against the wall and spreading out to make himself comfortable.

Tony mentally cursed the guy. He looked completely unphased by all this and Tony hated the fact that he could feel himself falling apart while the other man kept completely stoic and in control.

“Yeah. Great.” Tony grumbled to himself, although Steve probably heard him.

“You ok Stark? You look sick?”

“I’m just peachy. The only thing wrong with me right now is the fact that I am stuck in a confined space with nothing to do but listen to you.”

Steve looked like he wanted to snap at the smaller man, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he just pursed his perfectly plump lips and closed his eyes, seemingly deciding to take a nap and ignore Tony’s aggressive digs.

Dammit.

Tony curled up against the wall, as far away from Steve as he could get, resting his arms on his knees and burying his head into his arms. The pain coming from the gash in his head was steadily growing worse and he just wanted to curl up in bed for a day or three.

Oh, and half a bottle of whiskey.

* * *

It wasn’t for another three or five hours until somebody came to their cell. Or at least, Tony thought that was how long it had been – it was hard to tell, especially since time seemed to be passing so slowly.

Both captives looked up when the iron door creaked open to reveal three men. One of them immediately went over to Tony, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him upright before pinning his wrists above his head and kneeing him in the ribs until he fell down, unable to put up a fight or try and make an escape.

The other two took Steve, kicking him to the ground and sitting on top of him to restrain him. They managed to pin him down in a matter of minutes, avoiding most of Steve’s well-aimed punches. The captain managed to get a few hits in, but it was two against one and the drugs in his system were still fogging up his mind – his limbs didn’t particularly want to respond to his commands.

Tony wanted to go over and help the man, but when he inched along the ground towards him he was rewarded by another harsh kick to the ribs. He was sure that a few of them were cracked, if not broken. The pain was making it hard for Tony to focus and it was harder to breathe than normal, his heart, arc reactor and lungs working frantically to keep him conscious. It took all of his effort to semi-stand, slumped against the wall and leaning on it heavily for support.

“Now come on guys, if you wanted to take me to your place and lock me up, you could have at least taken me for dinner first. We haven’t even talked hard and soft limits yet and what – no handcuffs? I’m disappointed!” Steve rolled his eyes at Tony predictably resorting to bad humour.

“Shut it Stark. It’s not you that we are interested in.” The first of the three men spoke – for the sake of simplicity Tony decided to refer to him as Knuckles, due to the knuckle dusters that he was wearing.

“Oh now that’s not very nice is it. We all know I’m the most handsome one here, I ain’t no side dish. Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you? Became trust me, I’m not.”

Tony was shut up by a sharp blow to his cheek. Yep, turns out being punched is so much worse when your opponent is wearing knuckle dusters. Who knew?

Stark fell back to the floor with a grunt, but he immediately stood again, quickly rearranging his expression into one of indifference. He wasn’t going to give his assailants any satisfaction.

“That the best you got? I’ve had girls slap my ass harder in bed!”

“Tony, be quiet, you are just going to make things worse!” Ever reasonable, Steve tried to plead with the men using his puppy dog eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you want, but it clearly isn’t Tony that you are after, so just leave him out of it. Why don’t you just tell us what you want, I am happy to try and talk to you – come to an agreement?"

The second man – Freckles, pulled something from his pocket and before either Steve or Tony could react, he stabbed him in the arm with a syringe, drawing out a vile of blood.

“Oh Captain America, how the mighty fall. I am sorry, but we do not need to talk, for you have no bargaining material. We can get what we want through force alone.”

“And what is it that you want?” Anybody who didn’t know Steve wouldn’t have heard the hit of fear in his voice, but having spent years fighting along him, Tony could tell that the Captain was beginning to freak out. If only a little.

“Well, rumour has it that your super solider serum can probably be recreated by a close friend of mine. He just needs some blood samples. So, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be off.”

Steve watched in dismay as the men left the room as quickly as they came, sighing deeply before looking up at Tony.

“This is so not good.”

Understatement of the century.

* * *

Night had fallen and their room was pitch black. Where had that day gone?! It was freezing cold and Steve could practically feel Tony shaking from across the other side of the room. The smaller man hadn’t moved for hours, and was resolutely silent, seemingly content with gnawing distractedly on his lower lip. His ribs were obviously painful judging by the way that he hissed every time he moved, but apart from that he wasn’t revealing anything.

Thankfully for Steve, the serum coursing through his veins was fending off the cold for now, but Tony wasn’t so lucky.

Cursing himself for being so selfish, Steve stood, pulled his jumper off and walked over to Tony. The other man was only wearing a t-shirt, presumably he’d left his jacket in a bar at some point, or had lost it during the attack.

“Here, take this and put it on. You’re not freezing to death on my watch.” Tony glared up at his fellow Avenger, stating that he didn’t need or want his charity. However, when Steve dumped the sweater next to him and retreated back to his side of the room, Tony grouchily pulled it on, secretly thankful for the feel of soft cashmere against his skin. The jumper was at least three sizes too big for him, but fashion was the last thing on Tony’s mind.

Despite the jumper though, the room was still freezing and Tony knew that his body was beginning to shut down. He hadn’t eaten for over forty hours, if not longer and he was so thirsty. Not to mention the fact that fear was beginning to encroach on him again. Yes he had been kidnapped multiple times, but that didn’t exactly make things easier to deal with. Especially after what had happened last time…

He sighed weakly and curled up once more, trying to calm his breathing.

If Steve had noticed that the genius was slowly unravelling in front of him, he didn’t mention anything. Tony was extremely grateful for that, if nothing else.

* * *

Another couple of hours had passed and Steve found himself waking up from the light doze that he had settled into.

It took him a while to work out what had disturbed him.

Light was beginning to filter into the room so it must have been around six in the morning. That wasn’t what had woken him though. There was a soft whimpering sound coming from across the other side of the room, and when Steve walked over to Tony, he could see that the other man was pretty much hyperventilating in his sleep. There was sweat pouring down his forehead, soaking his hair and caking it to his face, and he was beginning to thrash wildly against an imaginary attacker.

“Please stop…no!” Tony began to cry out in terror, his hands flailing in front of him as he convulsed, tears pouring from closed eyes and making their way down his gaunt cheeks.

Not really knowing what to do, Steve reached out and tried to take hold of Tony. It was devastating seeing the man fall apart like this, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Tony spent most of his nights. He knew that the genius often went days without sleeping, and he pretty much looked permanently exhausted, but maybe this was why. Who could blame the guy for putting off sleep if this was the result?

“Tony, Tony! Wake up.”

Tony came to with a start, immediately scrambling to his feet panting hard and staring round like a wild animal. His breaths are coming in ragged gasps and since when did it become this hard to draw in some oxygen? I mean, was breathing always this hard because seriously –

Before Tony could stop himself he was falling back to the ground, landing awkwardly on his ankle and it took all of the energy he had to ease himself onto all fours, his head dangling between his arms as he panted and cried. The pain in his ribs intensified and god it was happening again…he was dying? Surely? And this time there was no way he could get away and -

He was vaguely aware of a presence standing over him, of soothing words coming his way, but they were drowned out by the pounding in his ears and the rapid-fire beating of his heart.

Tony wants to scream. He wants to yell and punch everything near him. He wants to curl up in the darkness, never to be disturbed again. Because it’s hard. It’s so, so fucking hard and he just wants it to stop. If he could just end of all this right now – the others would be better off if nothing else. Steve would be able to spend his time looking after the other Avengers – the ones who aren’t fuck-ups who nearly destroyed the world. Or he could be training new recruits and actually save people and –

“Tony, come on Tony, that’s it, deep breaths. I need you to breathe for me, nice and calm. Try and follow my breathing, come on. That’s it, well done-” Before Tony could so much as squeak in protest, he was being hauled into Steve’s arms, his head resting on the man’s perfectly chiselled chest and Tony couldn’t even do anything to stop himself from listing forward into the other man’s arms.

He can feel himself uselessly trying to move away, to gain some control, his hands scrambling at the arc reactor within him because his chest hurts because surely someone is yanking it out – the pain is too much and – He can feel it, the pain as the arc reactor is pulled away and there is something deep inside him trying to pierce what was left of his broken, shrivelled heart and -

“Tony, Tony stop it, you’re going to hurt yourself. Please just try and calm down. TONY!”

Calm down. Tony cried listlessly when a strong set of hands gripped his own and pulled them away from his chest, stopped him from clawing more angry red marks into his flesh.

Calm down.

If only it was that easy –

The strong hands had moved to his shoulders, large palms rubbing soothingly over his back and grounding him.

“Come on Tony, that’s it. Just a few deep breaths. Good, you’re doing well. Deep breaths, come on…”

Tony is trying so hard to follow the Captain’s commands but it’s too hard. Everything is too much for him to process, his brain was simply not up to following orders and surely this tiny room must have run out of air by now?!

Tony whined weakly, gasping against the Captain’s chest and slowly but surely his brain became less foggy and it was less difficult to take in a mouthful of oxygen.

Eventually, an insurmountable amount of time later, when his breathing was relatively level, Tony looked up at Steve’s blue eyes, which were crinkled at the corners with – worry? But why would Steve be worried about Tony? Tony was a monumental fuck-up. The worst thing that had ever happened to the Avengers? This didn’t make sense.

“Tony, I need you to listen to me. You are ok, I don’t know what you were dreaming about, but it was just a nightmare. I am here, and I promise I am not going to let anything happen to you. This is my fault, I got you into this and I will get you out. Just try to calm down.”

Steve’s voice was soothing and to Tony’s embarrassment, he realised that the super soldier was still massaging his shoulders.

As if this couldn’t get any more humiliating.

He closed his eyes and focussed on breathing. It was all he could do.

* * *

Steve rested his chin on the smaller man’s head, Tony’s chocolate brown curls brushing up against Steve’s five O’clock shadow. He murmured softly into Tony’s hair, massaging his back and shoulders until his own fingers and hands were aching, but it was worth it to see the tension bleeding out from Tony’s body.

Satisfied that the other man had calmed down, he pulled away slowly, looking deep into Tony’s chocolate brown eyes and feeling guilt wash over him – how had he never realised how tired and betrayed those eyes looked.

Tony blushed and looked down, averting all eye contact and wiping the sweat from his face.

“Sorry, I -”

“Please Tony, don’t be sorry. It is my job to look after you, and clearly I have failed on more levels than one. I should never have left you to suffer in silence. It is clear to me now that you have been struggling for a while, and I have done nothing to assist you, and for that I truly repent. Please forgive me?”

Tony couldn’t help but smirk.

“If anyone is the failure here, Capsicle, it certainly isn’t you.” Steve smiled at the familiar nickname.

“I do not believe that is true for one instant Tony, but can we both just agree to forgive each other?” Steve offered his hand out to Tony, who took it without hesitation and clasped the super soldier’s hand tight.

“Thanks Cap, sorry for being a jerk.”

“No problem.”

“Right, so now that the pleasantries are over, what the hell are we going to do about these serum-nabbing jackasses?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh as he took another look around their temporary prison...it was going to be another long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope that you enjoyed everything! Please leave a comment of Kudos, you are all amazing and nothing makes me happier than getting feedback from y'all!!! x


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, wow, I really can't say this enough, but thank you so much for your comments <3 Like seriously you make me so happy, I really, really appreciate you taking the time to read my fic :D I hope you enjoy this chapter - warnings for torture (waterboarding) and I guess scenes that are violent. Please don't read this if it'll upset you!

Tony was dozing fitfully against Steve, his body pressed tightly against the other man’s, his head resting on the super soldier’s shoulder. If Tony happened to be drooling on Steve’s t-shirt – well, neither of them would ever mention it again.

Despite their situation, Steve had instructed Tony to get as much rest as possible, whilst he kept watch. Although he was tired himself, and beginning to feel hunger gnaw at his stomach, the super serum put him in a far better position than Tony, not to mention the fact that Tony had definitely broken a few ribs – despite his protests, Steve had insisted on checking Tony over after their last run-in with their kidnappers.

It was clear that Tony was in a lot of pain, even though he refused to admit it. His body gave him away though, as he couldn’t help but shrink back from Steve’s probing hands, and from letting out a small hiss when his fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

In the end Steve had simply ordered Tony to avoid moving as much as he could until they made their escape, which is why he was cradling him gently as Tony slept, to prevent him from writhing and thrashing in his sleep and making matters worse for himself.

It seemed ridiculous, really, how the two had gone from enemies to this in such a short period of time, but a combination of circumstance, Steve’s stubborn refusal to let Tony self-destruct, and Tony’s secret longing for kinship and a sense of belonging – well, it looked like the two were becoming firm friends.

Steve couldn’t wait to see the look on the rest of the team’s faces when they saw himself and Tony being civil to each other.

The two had come up with a plan for escaping, and although it wasn’t exactly the most elaborate escape plan, and it didn’t involve building super-suits from scraps of iron, for what it lacked in ingenuity, it made up for in foolhardiness. 

Well, I don’t know who they are trying to kid – basically their plan was to wait behind the doors and ambush their kidnappers when they next came through the door. Tony would wait behind it, Steve just to the side so that he could attack first. Although their kidnappers had removed all of their weapons, luckily Tony was a genius, and one of the blades he had hidden in the sole of his shoe had eluded their foes. Steve now had said blade, which would hopefully give him enough of an advantage over the other men, when paired with his super-human strength.

But for now they just had to wait.  
…..

“Tony, Tony, you need to wake up!” Tony woke to the sound of Steve’s voice, brisk and urgent – it looked like Steve was going all Captain America on him. If there was one thing that Tony was good at, it was being on the ball, and he was ready and alert within fractions of a second. He pulled himself up, wincing when pain shot through his ribs – yeah, looks like they really are broken.

There’s no denying it now.

Although at this moment in time, Tony didn’t have time to care, or even think about the pain in his chest. Instead he got into position behind the door, finally hearing what had alerted Steve to their kidnapper’s imminent arrival. There was low muttering coming from behind the door, and after a few precious seconds there was a clanging sound as a key was pressed into the door’s lock, which eased open with a creak of protest.

They had a split second in which to be confused (why was the room empty?!) before Steve lunged from his side of the door, punching the first man who entered the room and slashing the blade against his upper arm.

And then everything descended into chaos. 

Knuckles rushed in to assist the man (hereby named Blondie) against Steve, leaving Tony to take down Freckles.

Steve was putting up an amazing fight, flooring Blondie in a matter of seconds, a brisk kick the head and a punch to the sternum sending him flying away from him and crumpling against the wall with a sickening crunch. 

Knuckles let out a roar of anger at that, and Freckles turned to see what had happened, leaving himself open to an attack from Tony, who swiftly kicked him as hard as he could in the balls before sending another well aimed kick to his stomach.

“For Christ’s sake, use the fucking tranq!” Freckles stumbled back to his feet and although Tony lunged for him again and got in a few well aimed punches, he managed to pull a syringe out of his pocket.

“Steve look out!” Tony lunged for Freckles again, kicking and fighting like a wild animal and not standing a chance, the other man fell to the floor, dragging Tony down with him. They landed on the solid ground in a writhing mass, limbs flying everywhere as they kicked, punched and clawed at each other. 

Meanwhile, Knuckles was giving Steve a run for his money – he was clearly a far more skilled fighter than Blondie had been and without his shield and tech, Steve was actually struggling to fight him. Although Steve had super human strength, and had far better reactions than most men, this guy must have been trained in martial arts or something because he was able to duck half of Steve’s hits.

Eventually gaining the upper hand, Steve managed to floor Knuckles with a perfect punch to the sternum, sending him crashing to the ground, and without a moment of hesitation he went over to where Tony was still mid-brawl. He hauled Tony’s attacker off of him, kicking him so hard in the chest that the other man could do nothing apart from buckle and pant for air.

Tony managed to haul himself up, clutching at his ribs and wiping blood from his nose on the sleeve of Steve’s jumper. He was aching all over and could already tell that his body was breaking out into heavy bruising. However, all of that was forgotten when he saw the syringe fall from Freckle’s hand, and roll over towards Knuckles.

In what seemed like a split-second, Knuckles hauled himself up and grabbed the syringe, plunging it into Steve’s leg a fraction of a second before Tony pounced on him, tackling him to the ground. 

But it was too late.

Steve’s face contorted with pain and although he managed to land a couple more punches his limbs were once again growing heavy and the last thing he saw before he passed out was Knuckles kicking Tony hard in the side and sending him sprawling on the floor, unable to summon the energy to get back up again.

The room span once, twice before Steve’s vision erupted into stars and everything went black.

He was really beginning to hate injections.  
……..  
Steve groaned when he came round again, he had a splitting headache and everything felt fuzzy. He hated drugs – they really didn’t agree with him, as proven by that one time Clint persuaded him to try some weed. It had ended with Steve eating the entire contents of Tony’s cupboards and Steve having to train even harder than usual for a week to make up for it. Not to mention the fact that it had left him feely spacy for a good few hours.

And besides, using tranqs was a dirty tactic. I mean come on, couldn’t these people fight fair?

When he eventually managed to pry his eyes open (they felt like they’d been glued together with superglue, which so wasn’t pleasant) he immediately felt his heart sink. He and Tony had been moved to another room, larger than the first but equally run down and depressing.

Tony was stood directly opposite him, Knuckles and a newly-conscious Blondie were both holding him, while Freckles was stood beside Steve. To make matters worse, Stark was handcuffed (which, come to think of it, so was Steve) After assessing the situation quickly, Steve realised that his hands were cuffed together and linked around a pole of some sort – he couldn’t even move more than a few inches away from the pole.

Unable to get out of his bonds, Steve looked back over at Tony. His eyes were downcast and it was clear that although Tony had put up a good fight, he had eventually been thwarted as well. His face was a mess of bruises and blood and although Tony was standing defiantly tall, there was no way that he could get himself out of this mess. And there was no way that Steve could help him out. This did not look good.

“Tony?”

“I’m fine Cap, perfectly peachy…” Tony looked up at Steve, his eyes the only thing that gave away the amount of pain he was in. Stark was great at putting up a front though, the way his jaw was set and the frown across his brow gave him a look of defiance. Steve couldn’t help but feel the rush of pride that swelled through him. He remembered the time that he said that Tony was nothing but a without his suit, but that wasn’t true. Tony was as much of a fighter as Iron Man was, and he was up there with the rest of the Avengers, no matter what anybody said, or what was speculated in the media.

“Nice to have you back with us Captain. Now, we’ve run into a few little hiccups. And let me just say, your little ploy earlier hasn’t exactly left us all in a good mood. So we would really appreciate it if you’d cooperate.” Steve really didn’t like the leer on Knuckle’s face.

“I’m not going to help you, you might as well just kill me, because there’s no way that I will tell you idiots anything.” Steve practically spat at the man, his fists clenching behind him in their cuffs.

“Kill you, now why would we do that? We need you Captain. We will break you, you will tell us what is in that serum, but we certainly won’t kill you.”

“I thought that friend of yours was going to find that out for you, or is he just as much of a failure as you three are?” Tony snapped, struggling a little against his captors and hissing when they shook him hard, effectively silencing him as pain lanced through his side and chest.

“Shut it Stark.”

“Tony, please stop, don’t make them hurt you anymore.”

“M’fine.” Tony was breathing heavily through his nose, but he was still glaring daggers at their captors. If looks would kill – well, Steve and Tony certainly would have been able to escape a long time ago.

“If you two are quite finished, it’s about time that you tell us everything we want to know.” Knuckles punctuated every word with a sharp punch to Tony’s side. “And, Captain, since it seems that you have a soft spot for this scum, we have the perfect bargaining tool.”

Steve’s eyes widened as he realised just how screwed he was. They were going to hurt Tony to get to him, but even if Steve wanted to tell them what was in the serum and save Tony from any more suffering, he couldn’t. He genuinely didn’t know what was in the serum.

Tony was determinedly staring at the corner of the room, face completely blank. It was obvious that he wasn’t showing any emotion for Steve’s sake, he didn’t want to show that he was scared. He was protecting him from the knowledge that his actions had hurt his fellow Avenger.

“I can’t tell you, I don’t know. I swear to you, I don’t know!” Panic had edged its way into Steve’s voice and he was frantically trying to get out of the handcuffs restraining him. It was his fault that Tony was in this mess – he’d don’t nothing to help the man that was clearly suffering in so many ways, he had no doubt contributed to Tony’s misery and now he had gone and gotten the man kidnapped just by trying to look out for him! Steve really couldn’t catch a break sometimes.

“Oh this is so precious. It looks like you really do care about Stark – but do you care enough?”

Knuckles grabbed Tony by his shackled hands, pushing him down to the ground and nodding towards Blondie, who moved over to the corner of the room and bent down. Steve couldn’t see what he was doing, but he assumed it wasn’t good.

“Now come on handsome, you could at least buy me a drink first? Take me to a movie? On a coffee date? Maybe some cocktails? I know I have a reputation but I am secretly the romantic type – I prefer to be wooed first, before the kinky domination part!” Tony’s insolence was rewarded by a sharp punch to the jaw, and yep, that was going to make kissing and eating a bitch for a while.

Dammit.

Tony was about to snark again, but before he could come up with another quip his eyes widened with fear, focusing on something behind Steve.

Steve turned as best as he could and finally saw what Blondie had been doing. He was holding a large bucket of what appeared to be water, and a cloth.

An image flitted into Steve’s mind and it took all of his willpower not to let his sudden onset of nausea distract him.

There was a lot of paperwork involved in being an Avenger, and as the others refused to do it, Steve was the one tasked with writing up and overlooking the paperwork. There was one page in particular that he was thinking of though – the one that explained in graphic detail how Tony had been waterboarded in Afghanistan.

Oh god.

Tony closed his eyes, but gritted out “look guys, it’s nice of you to think about my personal hygiene, but really I’m not in the mood for a showe-” Tony was cut off by the cloth being pushed up against his mouth and nose, closely followed by an onslaught of icy cold water. The water splashed up against his face, making him shiver and thrash, but it was no use. Tony panicked as it became harder and harder to breathe. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t draw in air through the sopping wet cloth.

Tony had promised himself that he would never, ever get into this situation again.

Well, they always say that promises are made to be broken.  
…

Tony had blocked out Steve’s screams from across the room. He was vaguely aware that the other man was pleading for their kidnappers to stop, but it was impossible for him to take it in. He was too busy trying to draw in air as and when he could. Which wasn’t very often. At all.

His head was spinning from a lack of oxygen and his chest was heaving with the effort to keep going. He was beginning to choke as water seeped through the cloth and into his mouth, causing his throat to spasm as it desperately sought out air. There was water filling his nose and throat and Tony wondered if this is what it felt like to drown.

Ironically, the sensation was rather like burning. Hah, life sure did like to throw curved balls and clichés at him!

Every nerve in his body was screaming and his body jerked wildly, almost as if he was having a seizure. The icy water was stopping his brain from working at all and just as Tony thought that it was all over, that he was finally going to die, the cloth was pulled away from his face and the cruel hands that had been holding him down pulled away. 

He fell to the floor, gasping and heaving up nothing but water onto the cold floor.

“S-s-please” Tony’s voice was nothing more than a wrecked whimper, raspy and grating and Steve felt his heart shatter into a million little pieces. He should be doing something. Helping. But it was hopeless. He was helpless and there was nothing to be done but watch as Tony was tortured, just to get to Steve.  
“Please stop, I’m begging you, please, I don’t know. I don’t know what’s in the serum but I swear I’ll find out, just let him go, stop hurting him. Take me instead, just let him go. You can do whatever you want to me – any test, anything. I consent. I won’t fight back, you can do what you want to me, just let him go!” 

It was to no avail.

“I don’t believe you.” Knuckles grabbed Tony by the hair again, laughing at Tony’s frantic panting and whimpering. 

The cloth was bought back over Tony’s face and yet more water was poured over him, but this time Tony was more prepared and he managed to hold his breath. Freckles, realising that Stark was preventing the water from entering his mouth, kicked Tony hard in the ribs, causing Tony to scream through the cloth and breathe in another torrent of water. Everything was burning and Tony felt as though he had been set on fire. He was writhing frantically, trying to get away but there were two pairs of hands holding him down now and there was nothing he could do apart from twist and turn weakly.

Once again the cloth was pulled away and Tony slumped into his kidnappers’ arms, unable to support himself.

“Pathetic. And you call yourself a superhero – ha!”

Steve practically growled from across the other side of the room, fighting his bonds so fiercely that the metal of the handcuffs had cut deep gashes into his wrists. He didn’t even notice the blood trickling down his hands.

“Do you feel like talking now, Captain?”

Steve shook his head miserably, tears creeping into his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He didn’t have it in him to care.

This went on for a good half an hour – every time Tony was moments away from passing out, the cloth was pulled away and he was allowed a few brief pants before it would be replaced. Steve kept up a constant litany of pleading, his wrists raw from wrestling with the handcuffs, but no matter what he said the men clearly thought that he was being pig-headed, and that he knew all of the answers to their questions. Which was ridiculous, because do they seriously think that he would cause Tony so much pain?!

The smaller man was barely moving now, he looked almost catatonic with fear and Steve could tell that he was in shock.

But thankfully, everything came to a rather abrupt halt.

Just when Steve thought that Tony was going to mercifully black out for good, the door to the room burst open and after that everything was a blur of black, purple and green. Hulk had appeared out of nowhere and kicked the door down, clear off of its hinges. After a second analysing the scene, he went straight for the men holding Tony, hauling them both into the air like rag dolls and smashing them into the ground so hard that they immediately passed out. He threw them down repeatedly for good measure until Clint ran over and pressed a hand to his thigh, trying to calm him down.

Surprisingly Hulk dropped the men to the ground, and with a growl he burst back out of the room again as quickly as he had come in, trashing everything in his path as he raged on. Bruce probably wouldn’t return to the tower for a good few hours. 

Natasha had run straight over to Steve, picking the lock of the handcuffs and setting him free, blinking in shock as Steve let out an animalistic howl and went for Knuckles, the last of their foes standing, pummelling him to the ground with his bare hands until the man was no longer breathing.

As a rule, Steve avoided killing people. But this man didn’t count as a human in his mind, so he didn’t feel a moment of remorse.

Tony, who had been uncuffed by Clint, staggered to his feet, gasping weakly and leaning heavily against the wall. His skin was ashen and he was shaking violently, but in typical Stark fashion, he tried to play it off. Humour was his defence mechanism, and he reverted to it immediately.

“Jeez Katniss, took you long enough. Talk about time-keeping. R-remind me what I keep you l-lot around for?!” Tony’s voice was rough from screaming and shouting, not to mention from the water, and although he was trying his best to stay calm, he wasn’t fooling anyone. If nothing else, the way his voice broke gave him away.

Steve moved swiftly across the room towards him, just managing to wrap his arms around the smaller man’s chest before his legs gave way. He supported most of Tony’s weight, keeping him upright and soothing him as best as he could. Tony was frozen stiff, paralysed with fear and it took a good ten minutes of coaxing to get him supporting a mere fraction of his own weight.

“Let’s get out of here, Tony needs to get to the Quinjet ASAP.” The others nodded, Clint wrapping one of Tony’s arms around his shoulder and Steve taking his other side. They mutually half-carried Tony out of the room, neither of them commenting on how they could feel Tony’s full-body shudders.

Natasha stayed behind for a moment, calling Coulson so that he could deal with the fallout, and cuffing the two unconscious men together around the pole that Steve had been tied to so that they couldn’t escape.

If she ‘accidentally’ stood on Knuckle’s body on the way out – well, nobody would ever know. And if they did find out, they certainly wouldn’t hold it against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it looks like they have managed to escape - but I think I have a lot of making up to do with Tony - I was rather mean to him. I think I'll make sure he gets a nice donut and a burger next chapter XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you all again for your awesome comments! I am posting a bit early this week as I've been having a pretty rubbish time and writing is a great way of ignoring things! This is a longer chapter than normal, so I hope that you enjoy it :D Warnings for a few swears, as well as the usual tags.

In typical Stark fashion, as soon as he was able to move, Tony was up and out of his bed and making a swift getaway to his lab. He had been prodded, poked, stabbed and pushed around by SHIELD’s nursing team and to be perfectly honest, it was making him feel even worse than he did before. The sterile white lights that had immediately consumed him when he came round from sedation did nothing to help the nausea he was feeling. In fact they just served to intensify his headache. Not to mention the fact that the chemical smell of hospital was too much for Tony to bare, and the water fountain he could see through the glass wall was disconcerting – pathetic, right?!

All he wanted in life was to be left in peace, and he certainly wasn’t going to find anywhere here.

Admittedly he felt a pang of guilt when he edged past Bruce and Steve, who were both sleeping fitfully in cramped plastic chairs. The other Avengers looked exhausted, with bags under their eyes and impressive five O’clock shadows. Although most of Steve’s injuries had already healed because of the serum, he was probably still sore.

* * *

 

It had been a full day since they had arrived back to New York and although Tony’s injuries had only been bandaged and set mere hours ago, and he had only been awake for half an hour, he was pulling his hair out.

The guilt that he felt for abandoning ship, in full knowledge that his teammates would panic later, however, was overridden by the panic that Tony himself was feeling. His fight or flight instincts were sinking in and although he was usually more of a ‘take a stand’ person, this time all he wanted to do was flee back into his comfort zone.

The process of getting out of the room was agonising to say the least. It took all of Tony’s willpower not to whimper as he stood, the pain in his chest all-consuming. A combination of broken ribs, water in his lungs and the strain his already damaged chest had been through wasn’t doing him any favours. Not to mention the fact that he had to yank a good few IVs and drips from his arms and a cannula from the back of his hand. Ouch.

It took him ten minutes to limp down the corridor and Tony was forced to pause every few minutes as he made his way down to his lab, but as soon as Tony was in his safe place he felt marginally better. With a soft sigh he made his way over to his ridiculously oversized bed, curling up under a feather down duvet and sighing softly when his memory foam mattress engulfed him.

Despite everything he was asleep in a matter of moments.

* * *

 

Tony bolted upright in bed – there was sweat pouring from all over his body and the feeling of wet droplets against his skin made him want to puke. Nausea rolled over him and it took a good five minutes of heavy breathing for the emotions to die down, and for the echoes of Knuckles’ voice to stop ringing in his ears.

He had been dreaming – well, having a nightmare, about being waterboarded and although this was nothing new (he’d been having night terrors about Afghanistan ever since he had escaped the cave), this recent nightmare seemed to be even more terrifying. Tony shuddered at the thought of _that_ room and curled up against the headrest, trying to control his rapid breathing and ever increasing heart rate.

A quick glance at his alarm clock told Tony that it was only 4am, but there was no chance that Tony was going back to sleep after that.

Resigned to yet another period of little to no sleep, Tony made his way from his bedroom into his lab.

“JARVIS, can you bring up the weapon plans that I was working on for Natasha and Clint? Oh, and those blueprints for Agent?”

“Sir, I do not believe that working in your current state is advisable!”

“Who died and left you in charge when I was away? I didn’t make you to replace my mother you know! Just get them up!”

“As you wish Sir, and may I just say that it is good to have you back.”

“Awww gee, thanks JARVIS. Maybe I won’t donate you to a local college just yet.”

“I’ll remind you of that statement the next time you threaten me, Sir.”

“Don’t sass me JARVIS, or I will change my mind!”

With a small smile Tony looked over the blueprints in front of him, absentmindedly rubbing his chest through the bandages.

If there was one thing that Tony was good at, it was distracting himself from reality and in no time at all Tony was immersed in the blueprints in front of him, tweaking codes here and blueprints there until he had managed to knock at least six things off of his ever-increasing to-do-list in just three hours.

Time seemed to pass far more rapidly than usual and Tony didn’t even realise that the sun had come up and that it was seven in the morning until he heard a panicked shout from the hallway.

“Tony! Thank god Tone, what the hell are you doing down here! I woke up and you were gone – I thought that something had happened to you! I thought -” Steve, who JARVIS had automatically let in, sprinted over to Tony, face ashen with panic and lower lip red from being chewed with worry.

“I’m sorry, I should have left a message. I just needed to get out of there!”

“Tony you’re sick, the nurses are all throwing a fit, you are too injured to be up and walking around – and are you working?! Seriously Tony, do you have no sense of self-preservation?”

“Nope, I think I lost it along with my virginity back when I was 14.”

Steve rolled his eyes and pressed his fists to his eyes, rubbing weakly before slumping in a chair next to Tony. He looked just as wrecked as the older man and Tony could tell that he was tense and in pain from sleeping in that stupid chair earlier.

“I’m sorry, just it was too much. All the people and the noises and-” Tony shuddered wearily, a gesture which didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“Look, did you even get any sleep last night?”

Tony looked up at Steve sheepishly.

“I’ll take that as a no. Right, come on, you’re going to bed. Now.”

“Are you going to tuck me in? Read me a bedtime story?”

“If it’ll shut you up and make you sleep, yes, yes I will.” Steve really must be tired if he was sassing Tony back!

“Ok, ok, fine. I’m going.” Tony groaned softly as he stood, accepting Steve’s offer of support when the super soldier reached out an arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, taking most of Tony’s weight.

They walked into Tony’s bedroom in silence, Steve gently pressing the smaller man back into his pillows and pulling the duvet up and back over him.

“Right – I’ll just – uh, sleep well Tone.”

Tony blinked up owlishly at the super soldier before sighing and in a barely audible tone he muttered “you can stay if you want. I mean – not in a weird way, just. Y’know. I’d like some company and I don’t want to have another ni-” Tony cut himself off, shame causing his cheeks to flush.

“Tony don’t you dare apologise for something that is out of your control. Having nightmares is nothing to be ashamed of, it’s natural. I get them too – so does Clint and although I’d never say it to her face, I’m pretty sure that Natasha does too. I walked in on her crying in the lounge once – tried to talk to her about it but she gave me the death glare and I ran for my life.”

“Nah, not Nat. I don’t believe you. She’s fearless. Nightmares probably have nightmares about her.”

“That doesn’t make sense Tony,” Steve chuckled.

“Shut up and spoon me, or at least leave me in peace!” Tony was using a jokey, slightly petulant tone but Steve didn’t miss the underlying plea for Steve to choose the first option. With a small shake of his head Steve pulled back Tony’s luxurious duvet and climbed into bed next to him, kicking off his trousers under the covers so that he was left in his boxers and an oversized t-shirt that had once belonged to Bruce.

Tony stiffened when Steve wrapped a muscular arm around him, being mindful of the older man’s broken ribs, but he eventually relaxed into his hold.

“This is nice.” Steve mumbled, his breath ruffling Tony’s hair and sending a small shiver down his spine.

“Who’d have taken you for a snuggler, Captain Serious?!”

“Y’know I wasn’t always a Captain, I used to be normal.” Steve sounded almost wistful and Tony felt a wave of empathy for the super soldier. It can’t have been easy for him, being forced to live apart from his time in a world where everyone you once knew and loved is dead or dying.

“I’m sorry. Just never really took you for the physical contact type. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s not really surprising, I mean I never really act on it. I don’t think I’ve hugged anyone since…well, before the ice.” Tony felt a pang sear straight through his heart and without realising what he was doing, he rolled over and buried his head into Steve’s chest, wrapping his arms around the other man’s broad shoulders.

“If I tell you something, do you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course, Tone, you can tell me anything.”

“I-well, I know it’s kinda hard to believe, but I’ve never had anyone stay in bed with me until morning. I know I have a bit of a reputation, but the girls always leave, or I stay until they fall asleep and then go back to my lab. I never say goodbye to them the next morning. I don’t know, it just feels too intimate, they never mean anything to me and I can never bring myself to wake up next to someone, knowing that it is completely empty and meaningless.”

Steve sat in shocked silence for a moment, unsure of what to say, so instead of saying anything he simply nuzzled into Tony’s hair and wrapped his arms tighter around Tony, scootching his legs up so that their bodies were fully intertwined.

“Who’d have thought it, huh, the genius billionaire is on the verge of a mental breakdown and has never spent the night with someone, so to speak, and the super soldier superhero is touch starved – you could so write a comic about this.” Tony’s voice was muffled against Steve’s chest.

Steve chuckled softly and the sound was like music to Tony’s ears.

Oh god he was in deep.

This was not good.

So not good.

Of all the people in the world, Tony could not fall for Captain America. Mr Perfect, the noblest man on the planet. There was no way in hell that he could ever be interested in Tony. This was just temporary. It was obvious that the super soldier would never have feelings for him…how could he.

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him.

It did…eventually.

* * *

 

When Tony woke the bed next to him was empty.

Of course.

It wasn’t unexpected – yet somehow it still hurt. It really fucking hurt.

And instead of being angry that Steve left, Tony just felt empty.

Of all the people to fall in love with, as if the world wasn’t done screwing him over, Tony had fallen for someone unobtainable who didn’t want him back. Yep. There was someone out there with a sick sense of humour, whose hobby was fucking up Tony’s life.

God Tony needed a drink.

As he went over to the cabinet by his bed and pulled out a bottle of expensive whiskey, not even bothering to grab himself a glass as he popped off the lid and pressed the rim of the bottle to his lips. The initial burn of the alcohol was off-putting but it gave Tony something other than the pain in his chest (both physical and emotional) to concentrate on.

He told himself that he was simply drinking to numb the agony of his broken ribs, and to stop the shaking in his hands, but he knew it wasn’t true. He was drinking to escape.

Captain America – Tony couldn’t bear to think of his real name right now, had his own vices. He would spend hour after hour hauled up in the gym punching things, so it wasn’t like anyone could have a go at Tony for having a coping mechanism.

Although admittedly his was slightly less healthy in the long run…or short run, but hey, who’s counting. Tony’s life expectancy was probably only a few years anyway, what with his heart condition, continual kidnaping, stress and Avengers missions. It was only a matter of time, so he might as well take pleasure in the little things.

That was his justification and he was sticking with it.

After Tony had polished off the remaining two thirds of whiskey in the bottle he finally felt ready to deal with real life. He walked heavily over to his work station and began working on everything that he was behind on, ignoring JARVIS’ warnings that he was in no fit state to be anywhere near a computer, let alone a welding iron and god only knows what else.

Perhaps he should have listened, considering the fact that he managed to catch his hand on a scalpel twice, drop a screwdriver on his foot and knock a shitload of oil all over himself.

Great.

Only half an hour had passed at the most, since Tony had woken up, and he was already so, so done. And it was already half past one in the afternoon.

With a grimace he stood, and dripping oil all the way, he headed to his bathroom. There was no other way about it, he was going to have to shower.

Which for normal people wouldn’t be a problem. In fact it would probably be pleasurable. But Tony was far from being a normal person. The thought of getting in the shower made him want to be sick. He briefly wondered if he’d be able to get away with simply washing himself with a cloth at the sink, but he knew that a flannel and rinse wouldn’t hack it.

With his jaw clenched, Tony reached into the shower cubicle and turned the shower on. As soon as the water came rushing out of the shower head Tony felt bile rising in his throat and before he could do anything to stop it, he was vomiting into the bottom of the shower stall.

Lovely.

As if the shower wasn’t unappealing enough already.

Tony weakly trudged over to the toilet and sank to the floor in front of it, retching weakly into the bowl until there was nothing left inside of him. The acrid scent of alcohol and stomach acid assaulted his senses and Tony whimpered weakly. Vomiting was doing his ribs no favours at all.

_‘Come on Tony for god sake, it’s just a shower. Man up. You’re a Stark, god dammit.’_

It should be easy. A day to day activity. He could do this. Tony had this.

But he didn’t.

As soon as Tony forced himself under the spray of water, Tony felt his anxiety reach a whole new level and within seconds he was back in that room, his head submerged under water. He was drowning – dying. This was it, this was the end.

* * *

 

"Captain Rogers, I am sorry to interrupt you, but Sir is in need of assistance.” JARVIS’ voice echoed through the kitchen and Steve couldn’t help but jump. He still wasn’t use to Tony’s AI system and had been completely immersed in cooking. His plan was to bring Tony breakfast – or lunch, technically, in bed. And cheeseburgers were his favourite, so Steve had spent the last hour prepping and cooking homemade burgers. He had made them from scratch, enjoying the luxurious ingredients that Tony kept the kitchen stocked with. It was a far cry from the food he had eaten on the front line, or at SHIELD for that matter.

He had just wanted to make Tony happy.

“What's happened? Is Tony ok?”

“Sir is experiencing an acute anxiety attack, I have been through all of my usual procedures and protocols for this sort of event, but have been unable to calm Sir down.”

“Right, I'm on my way. Where is he?”

“In his private bathroom, Captain.”

“Thanks JARVIS, I'm on my way. Can you unlock all the doors?”

“At once, Captain.”

Steve rushed down the corridor, completely forgetting that he was wearing nothing but the novelty Captain America t-shirt that he had changed into for cooking. Clint had bought the tee for him as a birthday present, and a pair of Captain America briefs to match – Steve refused to wear those!

He made it down to Tony's level in record time, bursting through the door and past Tony's bedroom, over to the bathroom door. To Steve's irritation it turned out that Tony didn't have an automated lock on his bathroom door, so Jarvis was unable to open it for him. Left with no choice, Steve kicked the door with all his might, which, due to the super serum, was a lot.

The sight before him broke Steve's heart.

Tony was curled up on the ground, naked and leaning against the sink. The amount of water on the floor suggested that he had crawled over from the shower. His body had formed a tight, quivering ball and from the lingering smell in the room, Steve ascertained that Tony had been sick.

What worried Steve most though, was how Tony’s spine was frighteningly prominent. Every shudder that wracked through Tony’s body looked painful and Steve couldn’t help but wonder how much the older man’s chest must hurt right now. His body was a litany of black and blue. Damn.

The shower behind Stark was still running - it didn't take a genius to realise what had happened. Gently walking over to the shower, Steve eased it off and grabbed a couple of fluffy towels from the heated drying rail.

"Tony, can you hear me? I'm going to put this towel around you now, so I need you to work with me." Steve used his best soothing voice but Tony didn't give any indication of having heard him. If anything he seemed to curl up even further. Undeterred, Steve draped the biggest, plush towel over Tony before scooping the smaller man into his arms. He knew that Tony would thank him for preserving his modesty later.

Tony sobbed into Steve's t-shirt quietly, his breaths hitching as he battled his inner demons. The panic had become all-encompassing at this point and every drop of water that dribbled from his hair and onto his face made him want to scream.

It took a solid ten minutes of Steve rubbing Tony’s back, towel drying his hair and speaking to him soothingly for Tony to come round. And to be honest, when he did, he looked just as awful as before. His face had taken on an all-too-familiar ruddy shade of humiliation and his eyes were wide and watery, still full of unshed tears.

Steve could smell the alcohol on him as well, but decided to let is pass for now. The last thing Tony needed was a lecture.

"Do you want to talk about it Tony?"

Tony shook his head quietly, pulling the towel tighter around his body and looking down at the tiled floor. He began counting the number of tiles in order to avoid Steve's gaze.

"Tony it's alright, you don't have to be embarrassed." Deciding that a verbal approach wasn't working, Steve scooped Tony up and set him on his own lap, so that they were back to chest.

Tony protested weakly, not wanting to get Steve wet, or to be treated like a child, but he didn't have the fight left in him to pull away.

“Why-why’d you go?”

“I’m sorry, I should have stayed with you. I went to the kitchen to make us lunch, thought you’d appreciate a burger.”

Oh god.

Of course, Steve was too nice to just leave him. And Tony had fucked it up by assuming the worst. How fucked up was he - he couldn’t even comprehend the idea that someone would actually do something nice for him?

But did that mean – no, Steve couldn’t care about Tony – could he?

Tony felt his breath hitch again and all of a sudden everything was too much. He didn’t know whether he was sobbing, screaming, or a combination of the two but the pain in his chest was unbearable and all Tony could do was cling to Steve as he told Tony that it would be ok.

“Tony, Tone, listen to me, I need you to listen to me. Can you name three blue things in this room for me?”

“Wha-what?” Tony must have missed something, somewhere along the line because Steve wasn’t making sense.

“It’s a method for calming down. Just do it with me, come on, three blue things.”

“M-my toothbrush. Mouthwash and – your eyes.” Each word was punctuated with a muffled sob, but at least Tony was responding.

“That’s good, you’re doing good Tone.”

“I-I don’t u-understand.”

“It’s a grounding technique, I read up on it when I found out that you suffer from panic attacks. So c’mon, now three white things.”

“S-sink, f-floor, toilet.”

“Good, excellent. Now how about three red things?”

“The l-lid of my toothpaste. My aftershave bottle and y-your lips.”

Tony was caught by surprise when Steve smiled softly and leant forward, pressing said lips against Tony’s. Tony didn’t move for a moment, but when his brain finally caught up with him he parted his lips and allowed Steve in, groaning into the kiss and revelling in it. This was an unexpected turn of events. The heat of Steve’s mouth around him was incredible and Tony felt like fireworks were going off in his head. In a good way.

Steve was gentle with Tony, yet domineering at it was simply perfection. He cupped Tony’s face in the palm of his hands, smoothing his thumb over Tony’s cheek and nuzzling into him gently. Tony felt himself melting into the other man’s grip, all thoughts of panic and torture disappearing because he was too busy drowning in Steve to even think about water.

Tony whined gently and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, clinging onto the soldier and pressing himself tight against him.

When Steve finally pulled away his cheeks were flushed and he was panting softly, his brow ever-so-slightly furrowed with worry. Tony whined weakly at the loss of contact but Steve gently held him back.

“Are we ok?” Steve sounded terrified yet strangely hopeful.

Tony nodded weakly, getting lost in the blue of Steve’s eyes. He was completely breathless – for a good reason this time (which made a nice change) and Tony wanted to live in this moment for the rest of his life.

Tony stared at Steve, jaw slack as his brain tried to process what just happened.

“So, uh, do you want those burgers now? I believe that cooking for your partner is a good option for a first date?” Steve was grinning now, his dimples coming out full force and oh god this man was going to be the death of Tony!

The genius just nodded weakly and followed Steve to the kitchen, his hand absently brushing against his lips.

The lips that Steve had just kissed.

Well that was new!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all of your feedback - you know what they say, a comment a day keeps the doctors away (and makes it more likely for Tony Stark to materialise in real life and marry you) - ok, I may have been making that last part up, but it's worth a try, right?!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the longer wait than usual! Thank you so much for your continued support, it means the world! The usual warnings, with the addition of sexual activity at the end of this chapter.

Tony sat at the kitchen counter, perching on one of the multi-coloured stalls that he had commissioned to be custom built. Nobody had ever mentioned it but the fact that a purple one had been made for Clint, black for Nat, blue and red for Steve, red for Thor, red and gold for Tony and a green one for Bruce had not gone unnoticed. So what, he was a sentimental sap who wanted to make his team happy. Shoot him.

Or don't actually, because Tony finally felt that perhaps, for once in his life, he actually had something to live for. Something other than maintaining the Stark legacy and trying his best to make up for all the people that his weapons had killed.

He groaned as he took a deep sip from the mug of coffee that Steve had passed over to him, wondering, not for the first time, whether life would be worth living without coffee. And the fact that Steve had used the perfect amount of coffee in proportion to the size of the mug made Tony feel kind of fuzzy.

He had it so bad – he’d probably even start drinking bloody pumpkin spice lattes if it would make Steve happy, and those were abominations!

“How are the burgers doing?" Tony’s mouth was watering at the scent of the burgers alone, but whenever he tried to pinch some of the side salad and fries that Steve was preparing, Steve slapped his hand away.

"I'm just reheating them Tone, patience is a virtue. I mean really, anybody would think that you are just dating me for my cooking abilities!"

"Nah, I’ve agreed to date you for your stunning good looks.” Tony didn’t miss the faint blush that clouded Steve’s cheeks at the compliment. “And besides, that wouldn’t make sense - you are forgetting the fact that I have never tried your food, I am a genius, I’d hardly date someone on the probability that they can cook."

"Maybe if you had gone to some of the team meals that I have organised, you would have experienced the delights of my burgers already!" For a moment Tony was worried that Steve was actually offended by his lack of appearance at said dinner dates, but Steve’s slight smirk was a dead giveaway. He understood that Tony was a busy man, with a larger workload than the rest of the Avengers put together.

"Did you just sass me?! Because I seriously don't need someone else sarcastic in my life, JARVIS is enough to cope with as it is!" Tony took another deep gulp of his coffee and put his head in his hands, wincing slightly as he knocked his old head wound - Steve was going to be the death of him. Although let's be honest, death by super-hot-kind-perfect-soldier isn't the worst way to go. By far. Trust Tony, he has been close many times.

“C’mon, why don’t you just pass the time by getting ready for our date, you can’t eat my burgers while your only wearing a towel!”

“But Steve! Please?”

“Nope, off you go. Ten minutes will fly by if you are doing something useful with them.”

“Steeeeeve!” No, Tony was definitely not pouting. Not at all. Well – maybe a little.

"Nuh-uh, c'mon Tony, my cooking, my rules!"

“Who says? It's my tower, I can do what I want!" Steve could see that Tony was going into sass mode so he quickly bent forward and pecked Tony gently on the forehead.

"I said, I’m your Captain remember? Anyway, you've had your coffee now, and you’ll be far warmer if you get dressed – and don’t pretend that you aren’t cold, I can see you shivering from over here."

Tony pouted and whipped out his best puppy dog eyes.

They didn't work.

Steve went over to Tony, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and kissing him softly on the back of the head, rubbing his tense shoulders a little. "There'll be more time for this later if you fancy getting dressed."

"Are you bribing me with kisses and massages? Because that’s low, can’t you see I’m injured and in need of undying attention, clothed or not?!"

"If I said yes I am bribing you, would it work?"

"You have discovered my kryptonite - fine, I'll be back in ten." Tony glanced back at Steve, who made a gentle shooing motion at him, smirking all the while as he turned his attention back to the burgers.

Smarmy bastard.

* * *

 

Tony stared into the mirror and sighed, tweaking his shirt collar and shrugging into his suit-jacket. How on earth could Steve want to date him? He was old, and although Tony had always felt relatively confident in his own skin, he was practically hideous in comparison to the super soldier? How could he compete with a man who looked like he had been carved from stone by a god?

This was so not going to go well.

He squirted on a few more sprays of aftershave and dabbed a little foundation onto the bruises covering his face. He’d never been overly keen on makeup, but the media often insisted and he was all too used to being caked in foundation and god only knows what for various magazine photoshoots and what-not.

But no amount of makeup could cover up who Tony really was, and despite his award winning personality, what if he wasn’t enough. He’d never be able to live up to Steve. But he was damn well going to try, because all of a sudden everything he wanted in life was waiting for him in the kitchen, cooking him burgers and Tony was sure as hell going to take advantage of that fact! He’d be a fool not to.

* * *

 

When Tony came back to the kitchen he saw nothing but a note on the table. It read 'I'm in the dining room, Steve xxx P.s, I hope there is no towel in sight!' and had a little love heart scribbled in the corner. Tony pocketed the note with a blush and quickly smoothed the jacket he was wearing down and tried to flatten that one bit of hair that always stuck up no matter how much product his stylists sprayed into his hair.

He wanted this to be perfect, to not let Steve down for once. It would be a challenge to say the least.

After a few more seconds of mentally cheering himself on, Tony made his way into the dining room. He’d designed the room himself, apart from the artwork on the walls, which were more Pepper’s forte, of course. He didn’t think that he’d been in there since he’d checked everything once and signed the builders off.

It was nice, tasteful with chrome furniture and spring green furnishings. But the most beautiful part of the room, of course was Steve, who was sat at one end of the table. And the second most beautiful thing was the burgers in front of him, because damn did they look good.

“Who knew, you scrub up pretty well Stark!” Steve grinned from ear to ear at the older man, standing up from his seat before going up to Tony and kissing him shyly on the cheek.

“I hope this is ok, I’ve never really been on a proper date before.”

“It’s amazing – where did you find all this stuff?” Tony gestured to the fancy silver candelabras sat on the table and the shiny silver cutlery.

“You’re the one who must have bought it, it was in the drawers.”

“Well clearly my taste in homewares is as good as my taste in men.” Steve chuckled softly before pulling a chair out for Tony.

“Seriously though, thank you for going to all this trouble. It’s beautiful and I really appreciate it. I’m going to have to work hard to one-up this for our next date!”

“Who says there’s going to be a second date,” Steve smirked, popping open a bottle of wine and pouring out two glasses, nudging one over to Tony.

“Y’know, sarcasm doesn't really become you, it contradicts with your sunny all-American optimistic personality.”

“I am a man of many layers, Tony.”

“Oh god, did Clint make you watch Shrek after all, if you start calling yourself an onion I’m off.”

“I’d prefer to think of myself as a cake – cakes have layers.”

That’s it, Tony was doomed. Handsome and funny, the end is nigh.

“Anyway, are you just going to sit there and listen to my limited movie knowledge-related puns, or do you want to tuck into these burgers?”

Tony didn’t need telling twice and within moments he had taken the biggest bite of his burger possible, ignoring the pain in his jaw as he chewed gratefully. Even though Tony had been out for dinner in five star restaurants countless times, this burger was by far the best thing that Tony had ever eaten. And that wasn’t just bias. Well, maybe it was, but the way that Steve had included all of Tony’s favourite fillings was definitely a big factor. As Tony’s teeth sank into layers of bacon, cheese and tomato he let out a low groan of satisfaction, closing his eyes and taking a moment to relish in the pleasure.

"What do you think? I didn't know how you like your burgers cooked and I think I accidentally dried them out too much and-" Steve was cut off by Tony playfully launching a fry at him...he may not be a super soldier but the genius had a damn good aim and the fry hit Steve square on the nose.

Steve looked Tony straight in the eye, making it impossible for Tony to miss the mischievous glint in those pearly blue eyes.

Tony knew he was in for it, but Steve didn’t immediately launch a chip at him so he took another bite of burger, looking up at Steve and smiling bashfully – and there was an emotion that Tony never thought he’d display.

As soon as Tony was fully engrossed in starting at Steve's eyes and taking in the light spatter of freckles that ran across his cheeks, Steve made his move. A fry came flying out of nowhere, landing straight in Tony's glass of white wine, splashing tiny droplets of liquid all over Tony.

"Not the Gucci!" Tony grumbled, pouting as he pulled the fry from his glass and proceed to eat it. Steve screwed his nose up at that, looking like a disgruntled, but nevertheless adorable, kitten. He knew that Tony didn't actually care about the suit - he probably had at least three almost identical ones and could buy the entire fashion company if he wanted to. But still, Tony's pout was adorable and the soldier couldn't help but nudge the older man with his foot under the table playfully.

"So are you throwing the food at me because you hate it, or is that just your way of showing affection?" Steve asked, as he popped another fry in his mouth. Tony lent in and kissed Steve on the tip of the nose, letting him answer the question for himself.

Steve chucked softly, a look of childish delight on his face as he took another bite of burger, all the while admiring the genius in front of him. Although it was clear that Tony wasn't at his best at the moment, the man was still undeniably handsome, with his perfectly sculptured facial hair and cheekbones sharp enough to cut someone with. The bruises would fade and the cuts would heal and Steve spent a moment wondering how he had been lucky enough to have such an amazing man in his life.

"So then Captain Perfect, since we are on a date, why don’t we do the cliché thing. Tell me something about yourself."

"What do you want to know? I mean, you probably already know everything about my past - more than I know myself."

"You're probably right about that, but I mean about you. Tell me something that no-one else knows about you, something personal. I want to know the real you."

"I really am an open book, I can't think of anything to say."

"Tell me something embarrassing about yourself then, I need ammunition against you for bargaining purposes, just in case I mess up and need to blackmail you into forgiving me."

"You'd never have to do that Tony, I don't think you could do anything to make me angry." "I don't know, I seem to have a pretty good track record of pissing you off at debriefing!"

"That's not me though, you piss Captain America off at debriefings, but not me, Steve. And besides, you have saved each and every Avenger at least ten times over, myself included. We all owe you too much to ever truly resent you." Steve smiled softly, reaching his hand out and grasping Tony's smaller one with his own. Stark's hands were rough with callouses from years of engineering and mechanical work, and from fighting, of course, but Steve found them beautiful nonetheless. Every single scar and mark told a story, many representing a time that Tony had harmed himself whilst trying to build and improve things for his team, or fighting alongside them. Anyone who says Tony isn't a team player is a fool - past Steve included.

Oh how Steve would love to draw those hands in action. He had often found himself watching Stark in his workshop - the man had always interested him, bemused him even, and Steve couldn't wait to get to know him properly.

"Well, I guess one thing you don't know about me is that I draw. I have a sketchbook that I bought during my first few days of ‘coming back to life’. Doodling and sketching in it keeps me sane. It's an escape I guess, for when things get too much at SHIELD. It's not really embarrassing, but I guess that's something personal that nobody knows. Or at least nobody from this period of time anyway." Steve took a big bite of burger for want of something to do, smearing barbeque sauce around the corner of his lip.

Tony lent in and kissed it off, wrapping his arms around Steve and cuddling him gently.

"I'm sorry that none of us realised that you struggle sometimes, with things getting too much. We all see you as such a role model that it's difficult to imagine that you are suffering just like the rest of us."

"No, it's fine. Besides, I have you to talk to now, and you will always have me. I have your back now Tony, I'll never let anyone hurt you again." Steve rested his head on Tony's shoulder, breathing in the man's scent. Despite the layers of expensive aftershave, Tony still had an underlying scent of motor oil, fabric conditioner and shampoo and Steve could happily get lost in that smell forever, because it was the only thing that made him feel at home. Ever since he had been defrosted, so to speak, Tony had been the one to look out for him. He'd been there since beginning and had offered Steve a place to stay - a home, during a period of his life where he had feared that he'd never feel at home again. Steve wondered how he had always resented Tony, been angry at him on multiple occasions – caused them to get kidnapped in the first place. How had he been so blind as to what an amazing person Tony is.

He cradled the smaller man in his arms, unwavering gratitude overcoming him as sudden and as strong as a tidal wave. This man was the reason that he was still alive. During his initial dissociation and depression, Tony had offered him security and anchored him. When he had been in danger, Iron Man had swooped in and saved him. And Tony had endured hours of unimaginable torture for Steve, without once complaining or resenting him.

Steve wanted to stay with this man for the rest of his life, until he somehow managed to pay back half of what Tony had done for him.

* * *

 

Steve nuzzled his nose into the nape of Tony’s neck, snuggling closer to him and pulling Tony closer towards him so that their bodies were totally entwined together. They were both cuddling on the sofa, Steve lying behind Tony, half watching the film that was playing on the frankly obnoxiously oversized TV on the wall, half watching the beautiful smile that now seemed to be a permanent feature on his partner’s face.

Tony had been horrified when, whilst choosing what to watch, Steve had admitted that he’d never seen a Disney film. Which apparently was a crime in this day and age. Who knew?

So now they were both snuggling with a bowl of popcorn which Steve was demolishing and watching Mulan. Tony happily sang along to all of the songs, loud and proud and Steve felt love welling up inside him. This man was incredible. He was even good at singing – was there anything that the genius couldn’t do?

By the time that the film was over Tony was dozing in Steve’s arms, his chest rising and falling softly, his mouth slightly open. Steve gingerly extricated himself from around Tony before picking the older man up, bridal style. He cradled him in his arms gently and made his way down to Tony’s bedroom, tucking the smaller man into bed and kissing him on the forehead. The older man stirred a little, mumbling weakly into his pillow and reaching a hand out towards Steve. It was a nice feeling, being safe and Tony found himself drifting off in next to no time, but not before he had registered Steve curling up around him, humming songs from Mulan to himself as Tony fell fast asleep.

* * *

"Morning sleepyhead, I made you coffee.” Steve gently shook Tony by the shoulder, smiling at the adorable way Tony screwed his nose up and whined softly as he woke up. “

G’way, m’sleeping.”

“So I can see, but Pepper rang earlier, apparently you have been scheduled in for a live interview about Stark Industries.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna watch movies and cuddle.”

“So do I Tony, but Pepper would castrate me if I let you lie around in bed all day. C’mon, you need to get ready and Bruce wants to check over your injuries before you go.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

“Suck it up Tony, c’mon, we’ll spend some time together after, I think we’re all having a movie marathon this afternoon if you feel up to it.”

“Fine, but as long as there is popcorn.” Tony rolled out of bed and groaned softly, pressing his hand to his chest and taking a moment to brace himself. He knew that he had to get ready, but he also knew what that entailed. Out of nowhere his heart began to hammer frantically and Tony let out a choked gasp when it suddenly became too hard to breathe.

“Tony, are you ok? Tony? It’s alright, just breathe for me, c’mon.” Steve rushed to Tony’s side as soon as he noticed how pale the older man had gone. Sweat was breaking out on Tony’s forehead and he began shaking uncontrollably.

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony, shushing him gently and tried to reassure him that everything was ok. He tried his best to keep his voice calm but he felt like things were falling apart. It was so difficult seeing Tony fall apart, especially since he was usually so in control.

“Come on Tony, come back to me, I’m here. It’s ok, I’ve got you, and you’re safe, I promise.”

“Just take a big breath for me, okay?” Tony finally registered what Steve was saying. Steve told him to breathe in, so he did. He inhaled and held it, shaking violently.

“Breathe out, Tony.” Tony exhaled slowly, eventually beginning to feel a bit better. Tony buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, shuddering gasps eventually fading to muffled, hitched breaths.

“Tony?”

“M’sorry. I-I just, I need to get ready and I can’t – I don’t think that I can showe-” Tony shuddered at the mere mention of the word, tears leaking out from the corner of his eyes as he tried to calm down. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough that they stung, only letting go when Steve pulled them away gently.

“Oh Tony, I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Don’t worry about it, I’ll call Pepper right now!”

“No, no, I don’t want to let her down again. I’ve put her through way too much. Besides, I can’t just avoid showering for the rest of my life, no matter how much I want to.”

“Ok, I’ll help you. C’mon, we’ll do this together.” Steve helped Tony up, kissing him gently on the lips and wiping the last few stray tears from his eyes. “You can do this Tony, I’m so proud of you. You’ve got this, it’ll get easier. I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

Steve gently led Tony to the bathroom and went to the shower, turning it on and waiting for it to heat up before turning to Tony. A faint blush covered his cheeks as he pulled off his boxers and offered a hand out to Tony, who did the same and allowed his hand to be momentarily squeezed in comfort.

Usually the sight of Steve fully naked would have given Tony a spontaneous orgasm, and would have fuelled his masturbation fantasies for months, but right now Tony only had eyes for the shower. Water was beating down in the shower cubicle and the sound of the water droplets hitting the ground made Tony’s stomach flip.

“I’m going to get in first Tony, do you think you can get in after me. You don’t have to stand under the water yet, I’ll make sure I’m standing in front of the water so only a little will touch you.” Tony nodded weakly, watching as Steve got under the shower and visibly relaxed as the warm water hit his tense shoulder blades. Steve reached a hand out to Tony, who took it and inched forward. He felt like he was about to be sick, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. Bracing himself in a manner that suggested he was walking in front of a firing squad, Tony stepped into the shower, his face paling further as a few droplets of water touched his skin.

He was just about to turn tail and run back out again when Steve gently placed his hands on Tony’s waist. The super soldier kissed him gently on the forehead, telling him that it was ok and massaging his shoulders gently.

“So good Tony, so brave. You’re doing good, that was the hardest part. Do you think you are ready to move further into the water?”

Tony shook his head weakly, biting his lip and looking down at his tightly clenched fists.

“Ok, that’s ok.” Steve kissed Tony again, cuddling the older man as he shivered. He was aware of how Tony tensed when water from Steve’s skin touched him, but he stayed put and eventually relaxed into the hold.

“Do you want me to wash you? Maybe if I do it, it’ll be easier?” Tony nodded again, not trusting himself to talk and instead focussing on his breathing.

Steve grabbed some shower gel from the little shelf in the shower, squirting some into the palms of his hands as he allowed some water to mix with the gel and rubbing his hands together to form a handful of suds.

“Just look at me Tony, and keep breathing.” Tony did as he was told, for once, biting his lip as Steve bought the suds to his arms and gently began to wash Tony’s skin. He massaged the gel into Tony, trying his best to make the experience pleasant enough to distract Tony.

“You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” Steve mumbled, bringing his hands round to Tony’s back and then slowly down to his groin. With a small gasp of pleasure, Tony rested his head on Steve’s chest, enjoying the sensation of being held so lovingly.

Steve began to stroke his balls gently, massaging them between his fingers as Tony rolled his hips, trying to gain more friction. Despite his fears, he was growing hard.

“S-Steve, please, feels so good.” Tony sounded wrecked, his voice faltering when Steve turned his attention to Tony’s shaft. Using another squirt of shower gel as lube, Steve began to stroke Tony’s shaft, running a finger along the raised vein and making Tony shudder. He thumbed at the frenulum gently and in no time at all Tony was thrusting into his grip frantically, reduced to nothing but a writing, moaning mess.

He downright whimpered when Steve ran a thumb across the tip of his penis.

“I’ve never done this before Tone, is this ok?”

“Good. So good, please don’t stop, oh god -” Tony cut himself off, grabbing Steve and pulling him in for a furious kiss, both of them fighting for dominance. When they pulled apart Steve upped his game, beginning to rub at Tony’s perineum, making his legs buckle slightly.

“Steve!” Tony scrambled at Steve’s back frantically when he felt the other man’s strong fingers gravitate back to his hole, very gently probing at his entrance and slipping in a finger up to the first bend.

“You still good?” Tony nodded frantically, the dual sensations of Steve jerking his cock and probing his hole almost too much to comprehend.

“Yes, oh god yes, Steve, shit, so good. You’re so perfect.”

Tony’s hole fluttered around Steve’s finger as he pushed it all the way in and he could do nothing but thrust himself back on Steve’s finger, begging the soldier for more until there were three fingers buried deep inside of him.

Just as he was about to orgasm, Steve rubbed hard against his prostate and used his other hand to massage Tony’s tight balls as he came, giving Tony the most intense orgasm of his life.

Tony panted weakly, practically whiting out as Steve held him as they made out. He was so out of it that it took him a good few moments to realise that Steve had directed him under the water.

“Tony?”

“I-I’m ok. I – wow. Who’d have thought it? Maybe you aren’t quite as innocent as I thought!”

“Don’t tell Clint that or he’ll be mocking me for weeks. Are you ok Tony, with the shower and all?” Tony nodded gingerly, reaching for some shampoo and bracing himself before directing his head underneath the stream of water. It took a lot of willpower, but Tony had never felt so safe and sated as he did with Steve, and his orgasm had relaxed him to the point of exhaustion. He didn’t have the energy for another attack.

He allowed Steve to wash his hair, and offered to jerk him off in return, but Steve just shook his head. “Not right now, this is about you. I can look after myself later. I’m so proud of you Tony, can’t believe you are doing this for me.”

“Turns out you are very good at diversionary tactics. Maybe the army did teach you something.” Steve chuckled and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a couple of fluffy towels and throwing one to Tony.

“C’mon, you need to leave in half an hour. We can carry on later.” Tony groaned at that, glad that his refractory period wasn’t what it used to be, because otherwise he’d be rock hard again at the mere thought.

How on earth was he meant to concentrate at this stupid interview after that?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do :D x


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the last chapter of this fic. I hope that you enjoy it!

It had been a week since Tony and Steve had been rescued and both men were finally beginning to settle down. Of course, they were both still on edge, what with everything that had happened, but they were beginning to mend. Slowly.

The entire team had been great, making sure to not make any loud noises that could trigger Tony into a panic attack – Steve had told them on the sly to be careful of startling him, and although Clint was messing around with Tony as usual, he and Thor had definitely both turned things down. Including Thor’s volume settings, for which Tony was very thankful for. The only time that Tony had panicked in front of the team was when Natasha had accidentally dropped a mug. It had shattered upon impact with the floor and the loud noise was enough to make Tony jump so much that he poured a load of his own coffee down himself.

All things considered, things were beginning to return to normal. Or at least as normal as they could be when a team of badass super heroes were living and fighting enemies together!

* * *

"Morning handsome…” Steve leant forward and massaged Tony’s shoulders gently until the older man peeled an eye open and grumbled something unintelligible.

“C’mon Tony, it’s time to wake me up, I have some new recruits to train in a bit and you wanted to get some upgrades done on the suit!”

“Just ten more minutes…”

“Tony we both know that if I leave you now, you will fall fast asleep again and then you will be mad at me later for not getting you up. I’ll make it worth your while! I was thinking pre-training bacon pancakes…although if you aren’t interested, I guess I’ll just have to eat them all on my own!”

That got Tony’s attention.

In their short time together both men were finding out a lot about each other. For example, Steve often talks during his sleep, Tony likes to hang up all of his clothes in colour order and Tony has a secret love of Kylie Minogue – who knew? Well, nobody knew except for Steve because Tony had sworn him to secrecy on pain of death…oh and there was the fact that Tony would do almost anything for bacon pancakes. Including getting out of bed. Although it was a near thing.

* * *

Tony groaned after finishing his seventh pancake, staring longingly at the remaining pile in the centre of the table. Logically, Tony knew that there was no way he could eat anymore if he tried, but still, they were damn good pancakes.

“Well, I guess it’s time that I head off!” Steve stood from his chair, pushing it back and kissing Tony on the top of his head before grabbing their plates and putting the remaining pancakes in the fridge.

“Are you sure you can’t get out of it?”

“Sadly not, recruits to train, punches to throw and all that. I’ll see you later, Tony. Love you.”

“Love you too, Beefcake.”

Tony smiled softly to himself as Steve left the room. He had plenty of work to be getting on with, so he wandered down the hallway, humming to himself cheerfully and finger drumming all the way. As soon as he got to the lab he began blasting out AC/DC, singing along to himself as he worked and became absorbed in his work.

He would have happily spent his entire day working on various projects, but all of a sudden the alarm system that Tony had installed throughout the tower went off. The Avengers Assembly Alarm.

As for having a peaceful day…

“JARVIS, what’s happening?”

“There has been an attack three blocks away, a potential terrorist threat. Captain Rogers is already at the scene.”

“At the scene? How the hell did he get there already?”

“Captain America was already near the scene with a few new recruits, I believe that they had decided to have a strategy meeting at a nearby coffee shop.”

“And he’s there without backup? Shit.”

“Hawkeye and Miss Romanoff have both left to attend the scene, Sir. You must try to relax, they will get everything under control.”

“You’ve got to be joking, I need to go, now!” Tony could feel his heartrate accelerating and did his best to steady his hands by leaning on the back of his chair.

“Sir, you are still recovering from your injuries. You still have extensive bruising and your ribs are fractured!”

“JARVIS, deploy my suit!”

“Sir, I do not believe that you are ready to fight yet. The Captain will be most upset with me if he believes that I have enabled you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

“JARVIS, the team needs me! I am fine, look!” Tony motioned to himself, perhaps implying that he was up and about, and could therefore function well enough to be able to resume his position on the team.

“Sir, your heartrate is dangerously elevated, you are in a cold sweat and you are shaking violently, I am not going to put you in your suit.”

“JARVIS, you traitor,” Tony muttered, making his way over to his suits and stubbornly beginning to dress himself in his most up-to-date model. If JARVIS wasn’t going to help him, he’d put it on himself, even if it was going to take far longer than usual.

“Don’t know why I bothered inventing you if you won’t even do as I say. You’d have been better off as a vacuum cleaner or something!”

“Yes, insulting me will make it better, Sir.”

Remind Tony when he programmed sarcasm into JARVIS – he’s pretty sure that it isn’t the most becoming trait for an AI.

“It’s not too late to reprogram you,” Tony threatens. They both know it’s a hollow threat, because any man who builds himself friends to conquer loneliness isn’t’ going to turn down any affection that they can get. But JARVIS won’t hold a grudge and to be honest their usual sparring is helping Tony to calm down a little.

“Sir, I really do not believe that this is a wise course of action, you are putting yourself in danger, and you are in no fit state to be airborne.”

“When have I ever played it safe?”

“As you wish, Sir. Come home safe.”

“Awww, you really do care. Seya later JARVIS.”

* * *

Tony opened his eyes and took in the scene around him. He was in a building – right, that made sense considering that he had entered the office block in order to take down the man who was threatening to blow up the entire building. Yes, that was right – he wasn’t a terrorist – this was all some sort of domestic gone wild, and the man was threatening to blow up his girlfriend, who had cheated on him.

Which ok, not cool, but still, blowing up a building full of hundreds of people really isn’t the best way of dealing with your heartache.

Clint had managed to take the guy down with a single arrow to the shoulder and Natasha had followed up by knocking him out with a single punch, but not before the guy had set his bomb off. Luckily for the Avengers, and everyone else for that matter, the guy was just some idiot who had no idea how to make a bomb. If Tony had to hazard a guess the man had probably looked up how to make explosives on WikiHow or something.

To be frank, the explosion had been pathetic, but it had been enough to set the nearby curtains on fire. And the paperwork. And pretty much everything else flammable. Everything happened so fast. The Avengers were well equipped to take down Doombots and psychotic killers, but they weren’t firefighters!

In no time at all the team had managed to get almost everyone out of the building, everyone except a young man who had fallen unconscious and been trapped by a fallen girder. Of course, Steve had run straight back into the building when a sobbing receptionist realised that one of her friends was missing.

And, obviously, Tony had run straight in after him. His suit protected him from most of the heat and the ventilation system that he had installed meant that breathing was no problem, but Steve on the other hand had no such protection.

He’d hauled the girder off the unconscious man, lifting it like it was nothing more than a crate of beer, but the smoke was overcoming him and despite the serum running through his veins, he was struggling to breathe.

Tony grabbed the man and flew him out of the building before turning and sprinting back into the fire again. By the time he got back Steve had collapsed onto the ground, barely breathing from the amount of smoke he had inhaled.

It took all of Tony’s willpower not to completely freak out.

He grabbed Steve and hauled him into a firefighter's lift, inwardly cursing that Steve was pretty much pure muscle and therefore weighed what felt like a tonne.

“C’mon Steve, don’t give up on me now!” Tony sprinted as fast as he could, inwardly gasping with relief when he heard the familiar sirens of the fire engines that had been called to the scene. The fire was almost out of control now, flames raging around both men as Tony forced himself onwards. Without any warning a huge chunk of ceiling fell down and hit Tony square on the head, snapping the metal of his helmet with the sheer force and momentum. Shit.

Tony grimaced as smoke and heat began coursing through his suit and he began to cough violently. His lungs already worked at a reduced capacity due to his arc reactor, often making it difficult for Tony to breathe through intense exercise, let along through heavy smoke. His vision was already beginning to swirl and flames began licking at his ankles. Time was running out, and fast.

Just when Tony thought that it was the end, and that he had failed Steve, he saw a figure in the distance. He called out frantically, choking on smoke as the firefighter ran over and took hold of Steve.

The last thing Tony saw before blacked out was the firefighter running with Steve in his arms, and another firefighter coming over to him. Oh, and the second girder that fell…right on top of him.

* * *

Tony was aware of someone screaming. The noise was rough and ragged, animalistic and clearly a sign of pure unadulterated agony.

Stark wished that the person, whoever it was, would stop because the noise was making Tony’s head feel like it was about to explode.

In fact everything was agony.

And…oh, he was screaming.

He was the one making that godawful noise.

Right.

Tony looked around frantically, panicking when he couldn’t move his body. Everything felt heavy and when Tony looked down at his body he was horrified to see the giant girder pinning him down. The fire in the room had been put out and there was someone leaning over him, placing an oxygen mask over his face.

He tried to talk, to ask if Steve was ok, but the firefighters were far too busy with the steel girder.

Tony blacked out again.

* * *

“-he’s coming around.” Tony groaned when he came to, his head throbbing and everything aching as he opened his eyes.

“Steve?”

“Hey Stark, you had us worried there for a moment, you shouldn’t have gone all night-in-shining-armour like that!”

“Clint? Where’s Steve, is he-?” Tony tried to sit up and instantly regretted his decision when agony shot through his stomach.

“Whoa, no moving for you buddy! Relax, Steve’s ok. He’s still unconscious from the smoke inhalation, but he’s going to be fine. You are far worse off. You need to look after yourself more Tony! That was practically a suicide attempt!”

“But Steve, he’s going to be alright? He wasn’t h-hurt?” Tony’s voice was raw from inhaling so much throat and with each word Tony felt like he was swallowing razors.

“I promise you, Tony, he’s fine. You got him out in time. Everyone made it out and the man has been arrested. You did good, just get some rest. Natasha and Bruce are both with him, he’ll be fine.”

“No, n-need to see him!”

“The nurses are so not going to let that happen.”

“Don’t care, I’m going.”

“And how do you suggest you are going to do that, Shellhead, in case you haven’t noticed, you are in no fit state to be walking.”

“Just get me a wheelchair or something, Birdbrain. It shouldn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“No can do, you need bedrest buddy.”

“Fine, wheel my bed to him then!”

“Sure, because nobody will notice someone with a bow and arrow wheeling Ironman through a hospital in a bed. We are trying to keep a low profile!”

“Please Clint…”

“Fine. But if I get in trouble with Coulson you are taking full responsibility.”

“Fair enough, now giddy up.”

* * *

Ok, so that probably wasn’t the best idea that Tony had ever had. He and Clint had just been shouted at for a good five minutes – something about Tony taking responsibility for his own heath and Clint being an enabler, but Tony only had time for Steve.

With a sigh and a threat of additional paperwork Coulson had let them into Steve’s room, where Tony finally broke down. Steve was hooked up to at least three various machines that were monitoring his heart rate, breathing and he was wearing an oxygen mask. His face was gaunt and there were still a few smears of soot on his face.

Tears streamed down Tony’s face as he reached out a hand to touch Steve’s arm. He didn’t care that the rest of the team were staring at him incredulously – they all knew that he and Steve had grown close, spent a few nights together even, but they had all assumed that it was a one-off kind of thing, a response to the emotional trauma of their kidnapping.

Who knew, Tony Stark had a heart after all!

“He’s going to be alright, Tony.” Bruce did his best at consoling Tony, gingerly patting him on the arm and shushing him gently. “Try to get some rest, we will wake you when he stirs.”

Tony nodded weakly, burying his head into the scratchy pillow provided by the hospital and thanking Clint when he parked up his hospital bed next to Steve’s.

* * *

 

It was a few hours before Steve finally stirred, momentarily alarmed when he was assaulted by bright white hospital lights and the strong smell of bleach and antiseptic. However, he was immediately calmed when he realised that the weight on his arm was Tony’s hand.

“What happened?” Steve croaked, pulling the mask off of his face and turning to Clint and Natasha, who were both peering at him anxiously.

“You passed out in the fire, smoke inhalation and all that. Tony saved you in the nick of time.”

“Is he ok?” Steve whispered, trying not to wake his partner.

“He’ll be fine. He should be in his room getting some rest but you know how stubborn Stark is. You should be as right as rain in a few hours, what with the serum, but Tony is going to need some r&r. His ribs have been re-broken and although there is no internal damage, he was crushed under a girder so he has some pretty extensive bruising across his stomach and chest. If it wasn’t for the suit…” Natasha left the rest unspoken, a rare flicker of emotion crossing her face.

“Oh god, this is all my fault!” Steve moaned into his arm, fear hitching in his throat. He could have gotten Tony killed by acting rashly and putting himself in danger, fully knowing that Tony would follow him back into that burning building.

“No, Steve, you saved a civilians life, both of you did! It was Tony’s decision to go back in, and we are all glad that he did. It’s good to have you back.” Steve nodded weakly, rolling over and gently rubbing Tony’s shoulder until the older man woke up.

“Steve? Are you-” Tony was cut off by Steve moving in and kissing him frantically, cradling the other man’s head in his hands and threading his fingers through his hair. They both tasted faintly like smoke and the kiss was awkward and sloppy due to the angle they were both at, but it filled both men with love.

“Woah guys, get a room!” Clint smirked, only to be punched in the shoulder by Natasha.

“Don’t you ever do that again Tony. If you’d have gotten yourself killed I’d -”

“I’m ok, we’re both ok. I love you Steve, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you too Tony, with all of my heart.”

* * *

The unlikely pair of lovers were pretty much inseparable after that. Steve would spend all of his spare time with Tony in the lab, showering his lover with kisses and massagers as he got on with work. Whenever he had to go and train the new recruits, Tony would come out from his lab and watch from the sidelines, just in case.

It was clear that no matter what, both men would do anything for each other. Although Tony was under strict instruction to not put his life on the line again to save Steve.

Everyone knew that Tony would do just that if ever he thought that Steve was in danger. But the same thing could be said about Steve, who had sworn that he would never let any harm come to his lover ever again.

So far, they were both doing a good job at looking after each other. One step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoyed the end of this story. I was toying with the idea of making it longer, but I have started a new fic which is probably going to be a long one. If you want to check it out it is called 'Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't.' It's probably my favourite thing that I've written to date and I am finding it far easier to write! I also have the whole thing planned out, which is a plus.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your support, it means the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> So...please let me know what you thought! I hope to update by Sunday at the latest xxx See you then :)


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